


A New Man

by dianamolloy



Category: Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial, The Night Manager (TV), The Night Manager (TV) RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Angst, Kidnapping, Kinky, Knifeplay, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, S&M, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, daddy tom hiddleston, daddy!Tom, fat female character, plus size, plus size character, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-21 02:51:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 33,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11348343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianamolloy/pseuds/dianamolloy
Summary: Thomas Jonathan Pine left the criminal life after tragic events, but blood and death can never be kept too far away.





	1. A Change

**Author's Note:**

> Whilst Loki and Ara require plotting and thinking, this has been scratching at me and I really do want to play. 
> 
> I came into this as a Loki fan and suddenly all your brilliant works have inspired me to hear new voices. You're all (those I know, strangers amongst you I leave it up to you to decide for yourselves what you are) very bad and delightful influences (cough the Graeae, the trifecta of dabauched perfection cough: Hurricanerin, Caffiend and Misreall)

Every day, for years, Jonathan Pine had meticulously put on a uniform. Not the first of his life, that began as a soldier, perhaps earlier still when his own father had died in Northern Ireland, a soldier too. His life had comprised of uniforms both in the physical sartorial sense and within himself for as long as Thomas Jonathan Pine could remember.

Pensions of dead soldiers don't amount to much and a mother who died of cancer before he was fifteen resulted in an older, poor and disinterested aunt, long dead now also, in a rough council estate. The army had been an obvious choice at 16 when there had no longer been a home for him and certain events required he leave London rather swiftly. The undercurrent of violence he enjoyed in the North London estate he had lived in refined by training and discipline. Expanded with cruelty and blood.

His tours in Iraq had changed him, however. The hot streets full of frightened people who looked at them as the monsters not the saviours, the smell of poverty and death and the unspeakable horror of witnessing the destruction made by chemical warfare. That, had been his limit. Everything else tamped down with an arrogant air but nerve gas, that was hard to ignore. It had all led to a change in life after his second tour. He wasn't convinced the Iraqi people were wrong and he no longer wanted to be a devil.

And so, the uniform went on every afternoon, with the cool breeze of air conditioning that he treated himself to in his flat in Cairo. An unnecessary expense, but he was a man who enjoyed quality and comfort over quantity, so his apartment was smaller than his wages could afford. Shower, shave, hair, it always began the same. Underpants then socks before pulling on a crisply ironed, by him, shirt; buttoning from the top down minus the top button around his neck. He would slide his trousers on next, followed by a belt. Polished shoes, shined before he went to bed as remnants of his life as a soldier. The last details would be the French cuffs being fixed by cufflinks, a perfect Windsor knot for his tie and gleaming tie pin added last. 

That was over now, Thomas thought as he undressed and faced his grim expression in the mirror, eyes pale with dark shadows underneath. Discarding the clothes and shedding the skin he had worn for years. The uniform of Jonathan Pine had become much too constructing and Thomas wanted out. Deep in his wardrobe there were clothes from before, from the period between leaving the Army and truly wanting change, and he dressed in those. 

Thomas Pine had seen death, but his counterpart Jonathan had not, and Sophie's bloody and lifeless body in the sumptuous suite of the Nefertiti Hotel had been a punch to the gut. That one moment had changed things irrevocably for him and reminded him that he did not get to live this life. He had thrown the dice long ago and playing at perfect, polite host was not what was in his future.

Doing the right thing, playing by the rules only worked if everyone else did too, and Thomas knew that wasn't the case. Jonathan had learned it too in response to deaf ears approach of him naming Freddie Hamid, followed by the Police Chief's threats. How Thomas had itched in that moment to step out, to show him what happened to anyone who dared behave that way to him. Still, he remained coiled. He would be leaving and it would be easier to do so if it was not done with the, corrupt and useless, Cairo police after him.

What was it Sophie had called Roper? The Worst Man in the World.

Very well, he could concur with that, if he could not, at least not for some time, hold that moniker himself.

The Second Worst Man in the World would have to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so that is a taster. Me dipping my toe into the waters of Mr Pine and trying him on the way he does his suits. As you can obviously see, as soon as Sophie dies, the story shifts from cannon.


	2. Cuckoo Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hit post too early so if you saw some in advance, mea culpa!

Thomas Pine hung up his telephone and slipped it in the inside pocket of his suit. Elegantly standing and removing the perfectly tailored navy, sharkskin Huntsman bespoke jacket, using the hanger resting on his mahogany coat hook before strong, lightly tanned forearms turned up the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt and pocketing the cuff links.

There were similarities in Thomas' and Jonathan's wardrobes, both consisting of immaculate suits. However, Thomas' came from Savile Row and the quality could be noted from the other side of the room and his wealth and power were visible to the most casual of glances. Jonathan's had been a uniform that created the opposite effect; smart but unassuming: ready to help.

The knowledge of being top of the food chain had changed the way he moved his body. Someone who had known Jonathan would likely not recognise Thomas. His hair and facial appearance remained the same but his status gave him a completely new air. He enjoyed that. And he enjoyed the fact he enjoyed it.

Circling the nervous man with a dishonest and presently clammy face, Thomas rested his hand behind the chair, the wood smooth against his palms. His office picked to his exact tastes, as Number Two at Jaguar Holdings Limited, it was one of the more modest requests available to him. His one concession to his personal wishes was the non carpeted floor, it made any wet work, though he rarely handled that himself and rarer still in his office, more sanitary.

"Mr Brockhurst," his upper class accent that did not match his lower class start in life began, "you are aware this shipment of girls is not the usual low-grade work. Why then, has there been a delay?" his voice was steel.

"M-Mr Pine," Jack Brockhurst stuttered, finding his fear impossible to hide. "It wasn't our fau-."

The man didn't get to finish what he was saying, as Thomas struck, forearms pulling him in a choke hold from behind and hissed in his ear.

"If you don't wish for me to have every bone in your body broken before I kill you, you will tell me what I want to hear," he held him, spluttering and struggling to breathe for a full minute before stepping back to the sound of frenzied coughing.

"Sir, we have them, they will be at the Cuckoo Club tonight!" Jack's panic raising his voice, which he tried to steady.

* * *

Prim and proper English, upper class young women were the latest requests from Europe. Slimy Eurotrash wanting rich little girls whose families were used to their darling offsprings disappearances, as the silver spoons they were born with were filled with cocaine not treacle.

Thomas would rarely oversee something of this level in his position, however at personal request of Richard Roper, or Number One as the staff referred to him when he wasn't in his stronghold in Majorca - never in earshot, lest his piercing blue eyes turn their dead gaze on them - for this occasion. The exchange of the young women being done in such a public, Mayfair, location rankled him. Celebrity hangouts were littered with press and the last thing they needed was for that to cause any trouble. Not that there would be, there never were in Thomas' missions.

Thomas was dressed more casually than in his work suits and he took the service entrance and tipped the bouncer on the back door handsomely. Still a pair of smart trousers on his bottoms, these were black, and a light blue shirt without a tie or jacket.

He surveyed the busy nightclub as he sipped his Bowmore 15 on ice. He preferred and kept the 25 at home, but even the upper class, London rich list were not known for their taste in Scotch. The buyers would be arriving after 1am and it was only 12am now. Thomas wanted to check on the women himself before they arrived to ensure Jack had not been feeding him bullshit to save his own neck.

Two of his men were in front of the door to one of the private rooms, they slid aside for him to pass. The view which greeted him were six giggling girls, unaware they were the pigs being sent to slaughter. Mostly slim, all white with English rose complexions, a mixture of blondes and brunettes and all very identikit. Drinking champagne, snorting from every flat surface and laughing uproariously while all wearing differing versions of short, skimpy dresses with sky high heeled shoes. 

One head was bent forward in facing the door, one of her hands holding her gleaming auburn hair out of the way with the other gripping a rolled fifty pound note by her nostril. She looked entirely different, larger for one thing. The fat, beautiful, young woman lifted her face, a thumb holding one nostril flat and Thomas swore to himself.

In front of him was Evie, Evie Roper and eldest daughter of his boss whom he had never met but recognised from photographs. Definitely not part of the plan and not one of the girls being sold.

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sharkskin for those unaware is a type of fabric with a light pattern to it. Not literally SHARK SKIN.
> 
> All my OFC main characters will always be fat. Because there's so few of us gorgeous chubs ever written about (or cast in movies without reference to our fatness! And when was the last time you saw an A lister dating a fat woman? Pfft it's wank but I digress). Evie will differ from Ara in that she might need to actually be a little fit but both are Fat Women. Not curvy, not round: fat. Like US size 18/20 UK 22/24


	3. Sleight of Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) [I got a new tattoo on Sat, aren't the willow and camellia pretty](https://www.instagram.com/p/BWA0G4JgLOa/?taken-by=fatfemmefabulous). I appreciate this has 0 to do with the story but sorry not sorry tbqh because I am a vain and beautiful angel and my shoulder looks a delight ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> 2) Also, there have been new chapters from [Misreall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8591122) and [Hurricanerin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11012967) and a brand new story by [Caffiend](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11365356) so this weekend was gr8.
> 
> 3) Can someone explain the 'eheheheh' thing that only seems to be in the TH fandom? I've seen a few times by people who never usually do sound type noises phonetically, then never ask at the time and now don't know who I've seen use it. Answers on the why on a postcard, ples.

There was no reason for Evie to recognise Thomas, just as he had never met her she had no notion of him. That's what should be happening, yet he could see, despite how quickly she had hidden it, a flash of recognition in her muddy green eyes. How she resolutely looked down at the table and slid her forefinger across the pink tip of tongue, before running it over the leftover powder and rubbing across the front of her teeth, lids closing in contentment but looking much more stilted than before her head had lifted to clock Thomas.

Casually yet deliberately walking behind the small bar the private room held, Thomas carefully poured himself a glass of even less superior whisky, face trying to remain relaxed but eyes flint shards. He needed Roper's daughter out of here before the buyers arrived and to do so in such a way to not draw the attention of the other women. With his most suave smile, Thomas sat beside her on the chaise she had scooted back up on from being on her knees to take the drugs. He had no time for such thoughts but the way the back of her dress had ridden upwards when she bent forward, the curve of her ass had been pleasing to him if the tightening of the front of his trousers was anything to go by.

"Thomas Pine," he introduced himself, spreading his arms behind him as he sat at the head of the chaise, which had a back to it, with a perfect air of sophistication.

"Hi. Evie," she replied, smiling in return but hers having a hint of panic behind it.

This was very unexpected. Thomas hated the unexpected in business.

Taking a small wrap from his inside pocket, he deftly tipped some of the powder on the table and took the still rolled note discarded by her, the powder coating his septum and dissolving; experienced enough to ensure none hit the back of his throat. Roper wouldn't like that his second in command had anything but a clear head but then drugs was not one of the other man's vices. Thomas, on the other hand, enjoyed the extra layer of clarity it gave. By no means was it necessary, but this level of business was so low on the totem pole of his skill set that it dulled his boredom. Thomas, with an incline of his head, gestured to see if Evie wanted more to which she nodded in response. This was where a bright but short-lived interest in Paul Daniels at age eight came in handy; what he had actually done was remove two packets with the one he had sampled from containing the cocaine and the other a mixture of ketamine, lidocaine to counteract the sting of the first, and a small amount of rohypnol to speed the process up. Evie was oblivious to what he had done.

As with previous experiences, it did not take long to see the fog descend over the girl's face, the slackness of her jaw making her quite unattractive. Whilst she was still conscious but pliable, Thomas lifted her onto his lap sideways, so it looked as if she were leaning against him. Her friends hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary and due to his relaxed looking movements all it would look to them is as if he and the girl had gotten occupied, hardly unexpected in a nightclub with free flowing drink and drugs, between two attractive people. Typing a message one handed, Thomas instructed Brockhurst to ready another private room, whatever the expense, as quickly and discreetly as possible and have the girls moved. 

The women complained when his security told them they had to change rooms, but seemed less put out when they were told it would be a better one. This wasn't the truth, Thomas had hired the best, but once they were elsewhere it would matter little he knew, as long as their noses stayed full. Taking that opportunity to make it seem as if he and Evie were passionately kissing, Thomas felt an air of revulsion at the limp girl seated on him and his wandering and groping hands making for a more believable picture to anyone watching. He pulled back instantly at the click of the closing door and stood, laying the girl down. She would be out for some time, until the next morning, and Thomas had business to attend to before he could give this situation his undivided attention. 

* * *

Faking a warmth and friendliness that was only surface deep, Thomas greeted the three men who were here to collect the girls in Russian. He was in his element, masking his own feelings and creating an illusion had been as relevant to him as a hotelier as it was as a criminal. 

"They are everything you requested, with impeccable backgrounds," he continued in Russian, the word impeccable suiting him better when speaking in English than the East Slavic language.

"Da," Dima, the man in charge, said. "It is why we came to Mr Roper and yourself, Mr Pine," the man's accent was thick as he switched to English, "we knew everything would be." One of the pleasures of working as one of the best was the simplicity of business.

The women were to be told that they were on their way the the Shangri-La hotel within the Shard, where a suite was waiting for the party to move there. The Corporation was paying for the eight-thousand pound a night accommodation, allowing the men to sample the girl's in advance of taking them. Touches like that were why the Russian had complete confidence in this and previous deals with Jaguar Holdings. Thomas declined the invitation from Dima to join them, citing a previous engagement. If Roper found out Thomas knew it would anger him but presently the man's daughter and what she knew was of greater concern.

* * *

Thomas took the back entrance, same as he had coming in, and supporting Evie's weight on one shoulder took the girl outside. A Loire blue, two-seater, convertible F-Type is not a car for unconscious girls, there's simply not enough room and Thomas' temper flared that even with the seat belt, turns left might have her slump toward him.

Inside his Belsize Park three bed flat, Thomas was now carrying the unconscious Evie, swearing that he had not opened the front door ahead of collecting her from the passenger side. Depositing the girl on his bed, Thomas poured himself from the Riedel decanter the third drink of the night, the Bowmore 25 his mouth had craved all evening; familiar and smoky burn on his theist soothing.

Undressing to boxers, he took his side of the bed, moving Evie who had migrated to the centre. It would be easier to keep an ear out if the girl was beside him, without having to sacrifice sleep.

Thomas slept poorly and woke before Evie, who looked decidedly worse for wear. Dark smudges of eye makeup and skin just shy of clammy. Chemistry experiments had a habit of leaving the recipient worse for wear, though Thomas did not usually experience it first hand. The drugs were not something he used to  assure compliance in women, they were more of a fail-safe for business dealings, if necessary. It hadn't been except for on two occasions, but Thomas was always prepared.

Watching the emotions cross her face when she woke up, Thomas played the role of contented lover.

"Good morning, darling, how did you sleep?"

"What did you do?" Evie demanded, not answering.

"Whatever do you mean? Are you alright?" face frowning in a mask of concern, hand reaching out then backing off in faux uncertainty.

"I know we didn't come back here to have sex! At least, I know I didn't come here for that, did you, did...?"

"We both had a pleasurable and _consensual_ night, Evie. I brought you back thinking you were completely in control of yourself." 

"I would never have come here with you. As you and my father must know. I've been so careful, how did he find out?" Evie demanded and Thomas' face went blank, the sensual lover charade discarded. "You can't stop me, I have proof. I have proof at what he was doing, of people he's killed!" her voice sounded shrill.

Things had gone from bad to infinitely worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut will begin to happen in the next few chapters. I know what it's like to click on an E to get your rocks off and there being endless non sex chapters, so apologies comrades for doing it to you.
> 
> I don't actually know that rohypnol doesn't burn when snorted. I did try to research but it's not exactly recreational. I don't think the lidocaine mixed with ket is enough to dull the searing burn of the former tbh, not unless it was 5:1 perhaps, at which point the line would be either stupidly fat and declined or too weak to give the cotton wooly feeling, so I'll ask you to suspend belief there. That said, if you have any better ideas what could have been used to similar and more accurate effect via insufflation, do say.


	4. Give Them to Me

There was the option of playing what Evie Roper was saying as ludicrous, certainly Thomas would have preferred it over the other options presently ticking in his mind. The girl shared the same Belgravia slur her father spoke in, even in fright he could see the composure and confidence that he had perfected and worked on, which came completely naturally to the vastly rich.

"Why were you at the club?" The direct approach. And the, now as natural as breathing, self-possession of Thomas Pine shining through as clearly as the light in her eyes from his bedroom windows.

It must have been his assured tone that stopped her from even considering a lie, "I wanted to stop him." There was no question who the _him_ was, her outburst made it clear she was at least aware in a way that her father was not a good man. Who was any more, thought Thomas grimly.

He looked at the breaking face of Evie, still so young that it took little to crumble at any layers of fight, looking delicate with her long hair, gold and copper catching in the light, in tangles and only in bra and knickers. Her bluster from moments earlier already dying off like a tornado one minute then calm skies the next. Would it last? It didn't much matter if it did, this would be a situation he would be handing over to Dicky. She was his daughter and he did not babysit, even in these unusual circumstances. 

"How long?" he kept his interrogation simple.

"Eight months. He wasn't careful, business was always behind closed doors, always, but I heard him," Evie seemed grateful to be telling someone, even if her confession was being heard by someone deadly. There would be no comfort and no Hail Mary's to absolve her of her sins. 

"What did you hear?" 

Evie paused, eyes darting around the room as if to see if her father stood there in his six-foot-two glory. Wishing he was, frightened of where he might be if he wasn't.

"He was angry, he didn't hear me come back from the beach. I was leaving that weekend and I just wanted to spend time with him but he was screaming bloody murder. I would have left, I was turning away from the door that was ajar but his shouting turned quiet. He ordered Apo dead. I know him. I know..I knew Elena. We played as children. This wasn't just words, I knew, I knew he meant them. How did I know?" Evie locked eyes with him, hers lost and hopping he had an answer but he didn't reply. 

Thomas observed as the words spilled from her lips; once she had started, the horror of discovering who Richard Roper really was made her babble. He waited, she wasn't done and along with his daughter, Thomas could at least present him with some information in case the girl clammed up in front of her father. A police constable taking notes at the crime scene, ahead of the formal interview with the detective.

"Something else Elena did with me when we were small was sneak through the servant's passage around the house. Dad thought they were locked off, concrete shut, they had been checked but someone missed one and she showed me. Her dad had handled the sale so she had been there and explored it before. It went from the kitchen pantry to his office and we used to dare each other to go when he was down there, to not get caught. We never did and I hadn't been in it since I was nine but I snuck in. He had all these documents, things I barely understood but I know words like mustard gas and AK-47!"

Evie began to cry quietly, self-consciously rubbing at her eyes and making more of a mess, everything was pouring out of her but she couldn't stop. She was twenty years old and until the summer previously she thought getting a First was her only big concern, nothing had ever been difficult for her and then it had all changed. Her dad had security, she knew they carried guns she wasn't stupid, but it was because he worked with the government he had always told her and Danny. 

"Secret files are quite the leap to cocaine snorting and abduction deals?" Pine questioned.

"What do I know about guns and chemicals? Eight months of dread but not being able to do a thing," Evie admitted. "But this, I knew one of the girls, Jennifer, we went to school together. We follow each other online and she had a picture of a man I recognised from Dad's security, Jeff someone. I got in touch and we began to hang out. I thought this was something, maybe it wasn't weapons but this might be enough. Maybe."

Thomas made a mental note to have Jeff Schroder dealt with. In order for the women to have been as easy to transport without concern or a fuss there had been a lead-up period where his men had gotten close to them, made them feel at ease enough to invite friends they knew. To have allowed himself to be pictured and put online, Pine was incensed. If it could be avoided it would be a detail that would not reach Roper's ears. Schroeder had been one of his men, but Thomas had still signed off on him for this operation, and it would reflect poorly on him.

"Would Jeff not have recognised you, and why did you look at me as if you knew me?" He was most curious about the second question, the first a mere formality and list ticking for efficiency.

"He hadn't seen me since I was about fifteen, it was worth the risk," Evie looked defiant and Thomas felt himself quite pleased at that. He had seen men twice her age behave less bravely. He couldn't be sure if it was true bravery or naivety however. "I was leaving once as you arrived, a few years ago, and I was about to get on a boat to the mainland but I forgot something upstairs. I only caught a glimpse but dad had been tense that visit and he was so pleased to see you."

"Aren't you a clever little girl," the affection wrapping around his tongue. "Tell me, what are you studying?"

"Criminology, at Durham," Thomas laughed, truly amused and chuckled more so at the cross face Evie made in return. "Laugh away," she said spitefully, chin sticking out. "You don't think I have a copy of the papers I found."

That poured icy water on Thomas' mirth, the momentary laughter dying away and blank, calm mask in place. 

"You stupid girl. You _will_ want to give those to me," there was no menace in his tone, it was unnecessary, "before your father finds out."

"Where is Jennifer?"

Evie had no idea that the game of cat and mouse was dangerous enough with Thomas, but there was a reason he was only the second worst and her father the complete monster.

"Where you don't want to end up. Where are they?" Thomas didn't notice but he stepped closer to her, Evie still sat up on the bed in only her underwear, undressed by him to facilitate the believability of the drunken sex lie which hadn't been successful.

"He'll stop," she sounded sure. "Dad will have to stop," those murky green eyes looked at him again, he could see the sentimentality behind them. This was a child at prayer.

"If you don't give them to me he will make you. Did you hope to blackmail him into being good? A man buying enough to destroy a country cowed by his daughter's silly games!"

"It's not a game!" Evie was breathing hard. Thomas was confusing her, this was her father and it had to work, he wouldn't hurt her.

"Tell me where the pictures are before I am forced to call him and he _will_ make you at any cost," each word said deliberately, this silly bitch had no idea he was trying to save her life. Thomas had no doubt in his mind that if the choice was between himself or his daughter, Richard Roper would do what it took. He might be regretful of having to, but nevertheless Thomas was certain of it.

Evie shook her head and Thomas' jaw gritted tight. What did one more dead girl matter to him, why hadn't he dialled Roper's number. He would definitely have to examine his reasons but for now he walked over to his dresser, it gave Evie an opportunity to at least try running away but he knew she wouldn't take it. He had smashed her innocent world view of redeemable black hats and a father's love trumping all and she was slumped forward slightly, like a broken doll with glassy eyes. 

Evie only looked up at the click, one wrist was now secured with a sturdy, hinged handcuff to the headboard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't feel a babby of 19 could do what MI6 and a former soldier did, even with her unhindered access to Roper - _far_ too Sueish. It seemed more believable (please insert your own quotation marks there) to have her way of trying to stop her dad in a much smaller way, a compact manner that could conceivably happen. In writing this note now I guess think how Al Capone was done on Tax Evasion (cant believe this said invasion not evasion for 6mon. I'll be in the corner red faced) 
> 
> Ofc now I'm referencing Capone, I'm left feeling like maybe even _that_ is too Sueish. Wasn't this story meant to be a fun distraction from plot and braining of Just on the Other Side??? Y do I do this to myself...
> 
> Also what is it with me and kidnapping? I had no idea this was going there but apparently yes? I don't think Thomas is as nice a captor as Loki was, to foreshadow you.


	5. What Will You Call Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter had an awful lot of talking and was all tell not show but I will be honest I wanted to get the cards on the table quickly, and is also why we went from Cairo to London, from Jonathan to Thomas without seeing the journey there. And why you likely (I reserve the right to contradict myself but I doubt it) won't, because the show did that. It did it well. We'll have to explore some of babby Thomas V1.0 at some point, that interests me but yeah don't fancy treading old ground or writing his criminal climbing like Leo in the departed (top 5 films ever).
> 
> Oh and you know what your reward for my long notes of existential doubt (about my writing. Let's all be grateful my rl existential stuff is kept out of these, especially as my birthday is tomorrow.) why yes: S M U T (dub con which is obvious if you read the prev chapter she's a prisoner now but extra warnings don't hurt)
> 
> *tips hat*

Evie wasn't quite sure what was holding her at first, her brow was furrowed and mouth pinched as she did an experimental tug which was of absolutely no use. She jiggled her right wrist a little and bent sideways to use her left hand and feel underneath the cuff with her fingertips, though she couldn't get them fully through.

Thomas watched, still beside her to the left as the girl felt around her trapped hand then looked at him with that same puzzled confusion. She hadn't reacted in anger or fear, just the dumbfoundedness of a kitten trying to pass through the cat flap as it always had and this time finding it wouldn't budge open.

"Why did you do that?" She looked from him to her trapped arm and back again.

"Because if you choose to be stubborn Evie, I will need to hold you until you feel more cooperative."

Thomas was growing more uncertain at what Roper would do, that even without the papers hanging over him what a man in his position could simply risk. In the four years working with him, no  _for,_ despite his amiability one never forgot who was in charge, Thomas had seen him cross a great deal of lines that others would not as if they weren't worth noting or even there. This was not a man who fell into this life, discovered he had a knack for it and simply progressed. Richard Roper revelled in everything; the money and power yes, but certainly, undoubtedly, the violence. His own children he loved, but Thomas had observed a fondness more for his son, whether that borne of the boy simply being younger or machismo pride, than daughter. That lack of warmth in the older man's reptilian eyes dulled when speaking about Danny, traces of humanity as if the two DNA types within him were fighting for control were visible but when his daughter, whom he rarely even mentioned came up, the triune brain remained at the forefront, parasitic symbiosis in full control. 

"I want you to call my dad."

"That is the last thing you want me to do, do you not possess the cleverness to realise what he will do to get those pictures?" Thomas spat, angry now at how stupid this child was. Angry that he was involving himself in something that would bring no gain for himself whatsoever.

"He would nev...," Evie began to say.

"He would break all two-hundred-and-six bones in your body for them, if necessary! Which is far less than the number of people he has had killed, you little fool," Thomas interrupted and hissed in her face before walking out.

Thomas would use The Corporation to obtain a leave of abscense for Evie from Durham. There were still sixteen weeks until the end of term and Evie's final year exams were in three but with falsified medical records it would be simple. Jaguar Holdings was so large, with so much legitimate business mixed with the criminal activity, that Thomas was certain Roper would have had no way of knowing and nobody that worked for him would either. All but a few of Roper's closest people were unaware that his children went by their mother's surname academically, as a safety precaution on Dicky's part.

He had not intended on a houseguest but Thomas knew a spoiled girl, even a do-gooder such as Evie would soon crack. 

* * *

Their routine had become almost marital over the last ten weeks, that of an older couple who never touched but mirrored each other. Theirs not created in familiarity but because Thomas did not allow her out of his sight when he was home.

During the day he went to work, though additional missions were put on a back burner but there was nothing presently needing his attention. Arms deals and high profit crime were rarely as straightforward as Ian Fleming had written about. In reality there were far fewer tuxedo prancing moments and more paperwork, mostly falsified, and electronic details in aligning everything for modern deals.

In the evening he would take her to the bathroom, having left her cuffed all day with a glass of water and an apple, to relieve herself, not having had access to a bathroom since that morning. She had three minutes before he would open the door, where he would order her to bathe. Thomas was not enough of a bastard to look as she did, her clothes a handful of dresses and some other necessities bought when it became clear that she thought she could play hard ball. After which they would eat, his food delivered from nearby restaurants with a threat of killing the delivery person if she did anything. Whilst he dined on fresh fish or perfectly pink fillet, Evie would be given a plain sandwich whatever was left over in the from the lunchtime stock in the cafe near his home, an undressed salad and more water, this she greedily drank after the deprivation during the day. Thomas observed that she was losing weight and found himself not liking the change in her body. Whilst she was staying in his house, though that made her seem like a guest not a captor, Thomas had cancelled his cleaning service, so Evie would clean as he read and sipped his whiskey, sometimes he would watch a film whilst Evie sat in his line of vision not saying or doing anything. At weekends the time stretched out before her and her request once in the first few weeks of pen and paper had been denied and Thomas barely said anything to her.

Every night, before she was handcuffed beside him in bed and her ankles secured for good measure, Thomas asked her for the pictures and every time she said no. This was not a trained soldier unafraid, nor a defiant adversary more petulant than smart. Thomas could see her only reason for not complying was her sense of morality, which would be the death of her. This was not something which could hold indefinitely, it was the first week of June and he would be travelling to Majorca a month from now. There was one more option before the decision between mild torture or telling Roper would need to be engaged.

* * *

Thomas came home that Friday evening as normal, though in his hand was a carrier bag from Selfridges of food. The main headquarters of the car side of The Corporation were in Coventry but Roper owned a listed building by the river near Thames House, the proximity of which purposeful and for his amusement. It had been fitted out privately to ensure maximum security, completely illegal to carry out such works but Roper had greased the right hands. 

Placing the bag in the kitchen before heading to the master bedroom and unlocking Evie, Thomas followed the usual routine until she was bathed and dressed.

"You'll help me cook tonight," he told her and she helped him unpack the food, removing sea bass fillets and samphire, fresh prawns and crème fraîche, along with fresh pasta plus a bottle of white grand cru burgundy. The wine was chilled and Thomas poured two glasses and handed one to Evie who looked surprised then took a sip.

Thomas had her slicing fresh herbs, having made sure to remain too close despite the spacious kitchen island they were working from, leaning past her with his body pushing against her more than once. The meal was relatively simple to prepare, the quality of the ingredients designed to shine rather than culinary techniques. Cutting the lemon at the end before serving elicited a gasp from Evie, a small cut she hadn't noticed from doing the lemon thyme puckering and bleeding on the side of her right thumb. Before she could go to the sink to rinse the sting away, Thomas took her hand in a swift movement and placed the thumb in his mouth, tongue laving at where the lemon juice had revealed the nick.

"Saliva is more helpful than water," Thomas explained to the wide-eyed girl.

Evie was doing her best to eat at a normal pace but proper food, delicious fish and shellfish with creamy pasta and the tang of salt from the samphire, it was all too delicious and she was in heaven. The near three months of prison style rations almost forgotten about after being presented with this feast. And Thomas was being normal, talking to her like a person not a servant who inconvenienced him. They didn't talk much but enough for her to see glimpses of this man she had been getting to know; his sharp wit and dry humour she had been at the end of before but this time she was invited to join in with it. After over two months without a drink, the two large glasses were definitely leaving her feeling tipsy.

Thomas sipped his wine and looked at Evie over the outward curved rim of his Riedel burgundy glass, her peaches and cream complexion flushed lightly from the drink. The warmth of it showing on her full but small mouth as well as across her chest and wondering if anywhere else of hers flushed pink from alcohol. When she stood to clear, an automatic move ingrained now in her, he got up too and took one wrist in his hands and walked her to his bedroom. Evie didn't protest or say anything but her mind reminded her that shouldn't let him do this, that she was a prisoner and he was a criminal, a murderer. It all fell on deaf ears as her libido took over.

Thomas kissed her deeply, enjoying how the grand cru mingled with her own taste for a new flavour on his tongue. Her welcoming body pressing into him, a small gasp falling from her lips at the feel of his erection, which had been present since he'd sucked her digit free of the lemon and blood. 

"What will you call me?" he rasped against her ear, breaking the kiss.

"-..Thomas?" he shook his head against hers. "I..I don't know."

"Daddy," Thomas kissed her again, roughly now and ruined the wide neckline of the jersey dress she wore by pulling it past her shoulders and down her body so he could continue the kiss, driving his suited knee against her centre once the dress was pooled on the floor.

Parting so he could undress himself whilst he looked on at Evie, he dropped his own clothes on top of hers, with them mimicking what his and Evie's bodies would soon be doing. Unashamedly naked, Thomas told Evie to remove her underwear, which she did slowly not he could tell in seduction but mild embarrassment. He palmed himself as she climbed out of her remaining clothing and when she was also naked stepped into and owned her space, placing his dick in her hand.

"Look how hard you've made your daddy, Evie," he breathed, his other hand cupping her ass. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes," Evie gulped and took a deep breath. "Yes daddy." She wasn't turned off by what he'd said, surprisingly it was the opposite but this was new to her. This assured man unlike what now felt like boys that she had previously been with.

"Get on your knees on the bed, little girl," Thomas instructed and Evie complied.

He had to shift her, she was too close to the edge of the bed and he was tall but not that tall. Climbing up on his knees, he had taken the opportunity to take a condom from his bedside table and rip the packed open, lowering the teat over himself and unrolling it. Thomas positioned over her entrance and unhurriedly slid in, finding as he expected a wet Evie.

"I didn't even touch you, did I?"

"No daddy," she moaned as he entered and pulled out, achingly slow.

"I didn't realise you were a bad little girl," Thomas grunted and sped up, the noise of him fucking her making his cock throb.

Cupping her small breasts, large enough to fill his hands but not much bigger, Thomas stopped talking, concentrating on filling her, his hands kneading roughly when one slid between her legs and flicked her little nub over and over, wanting her to come so he could.

Evie had never felt so used and so turned on and when his fingers rubbed her clit her muscles contracted and spasmed. She wasn't done screaming before Thomas came violently hard, breathing heavy puffs on her shoulder.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw *kri* none of you commented upon the 'belgravia slur' line (from the book) nor the sentimentality child at prayer one (obv Loki this one, I don't even need to say). Come on people, I have about 2gr of 'wit' stored within about 290lbs (I may also be wildly self deprecating at times, who knows...) so I need to be rewarded like an old dog that doesn't piss on the carpet. Sure it's the least you expect, but the dog is ancient so pat pat. Soz if you just come for the story, maybe skip my notes :D


	6. Captor. Lover. Torturer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urgh I just caught slug and kneeling for slid and kneading in previous chapter. Sorry about that, no beta is hard sometimes.
> 
> By the way this is COMPLETELY unrelated but every time I'm reminded by others talking about it I post it on social channels bc so few people with vaginas still know this in the year of our Rhianna 2017. Your vag is acidic, acid bleaches most fabrics, thus if your knickers, esp dark ones, have colour that is lighter/bleached looking where vag meets cloth: this is NORMAL. You are not weird, dirty or doing laundry wrong; most vagina having people experience this.

Thomas had taken her to the bathroom, purportedly for them to clean up but he stepped inside the spacious walk-in shower and pressed Evie against the tiled wall. Their movement activating the sensor so the waterfall shower head, which had a pre-set temperature and Thomas enjoyed cooler showers in the summer months, turned on and rained against them; the chill in the water making Evie's nipples hard having only recently flattened after being fucked by Thomas.

"You will give me what I want," Thomas promised the girl, his hand had already come to be between her legs, the water texture harder when compared to the soft liquid that he felt between her legs.

"Please," Evie whimpered, the cold ceramic goosepimpling the back of her whilst Thomas' warm body was keeping any parts the water couldn't reach warm.

"Please?" he crooned against her ear, deft fingers exploring entrance, circling it as one would when tracing fingers over a map to decide which destination came next.

"I can't," her voice trembled, trying to dig for reserves that were becoming harder to locate the more Thomas seemed to himself locate all the sensitive areas inside of her.

"But you will, darling," Thomas promised as he felt for and stopped ah the spot on the front and tapped his fingers along the rough patch of skin and held up Evie, whose legs were doing a poor job of supporting her themselves.

"You don't have to be involved. You could go, couldn't you?" Evie gasped, realising she really didn't want Thomas caught up in what came next. Living with someone who was your only source of company for weeks on end, sleeping beside him and having Thomas be the only interaction she ever got meant that even if she hated him for doing this, feared him immensely though Evie hadn't yet seen an angry Thomas, she found that she didn't want him to come to any harm because of her actions. "You know the worst of my father but I know him in ways you don't."

Evie had had long periods to think during her unwilling stay and she had realised for all her sense of right and wrong that she couldn't have coped with her dad in prison, even if she had figured out how to take the photos of the documents she had and do anything to tie him to them, not just his company, instead of the dumb luck of an old school friend in the wrong place at the worst time advantage which fell in her lap. He hadn't raised her, her mum had done that, but every summer holiday for as long as she had been alive she had been with him. She was made from half of him and it felt the worst betrayal to hurt him.

Thomas angrily let go, and shoved Evie's shoulders back into the wall, her breath leaving her with an 'oof' much the same way a deflating balloon would, her lips puckered the same way the end of one looked. This little imbecile of a girl behaved as if Richard Onslow Roper was misunderstood and not a viper; and having kept her here so long, the failure to report to Dickie would cost him as severely. Something which he had ignored but there was no hiding from this simple truth any longer. Dragging her behind him in the manner befitting a misbehaving child, Thomas marched them both back to the bedroom and clicked the cuffs shut, Evie soaking and naked perched on the end of the bed. 

The prisoner routine hadn't bore the desired results, nor had fucking her although Thomas had believed it to be a worthwhile idea he certainly hadn't complained that the outcome of it had been sliding his cock inside her slick cunt, the memory of her not long since shuddering was still leaving Thomas hard. Perhaps not as intensely as before, and if he pinned and fucked her again he might not ejaculate a second time but that didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy the way her wet pussy would contract around him.

Captor.

Lover.

Torturer.

The only option left to him was the fear and cruelty of the latter, not that there would be a complete absence of the second card in his deck; the king of hearts and the king of spades would both be playing their parts and would be dealt.

Leaving the room to finish his shower, Thomas returned dry and dressed. Casual black sweatpants and a white t-shirt, the only part of him which remained damp was his hair. He had taken the opportunity to adjust the thermostat in the house, though London rarely required air conditioning he had grown fond of the chilled air during his time in warmer climates. He would not ordinarily sleep in clothes, a concession to this had been sleeping in his underwear during Evie's stay in his bed, but the bedroom and hall were now set to 10c and the breeze would certainly make it feel several degrees chillier.

Turning the light off, Evie still perched up and starting to shiver, Thomas made his way to the bed and pulled the covers so half would lay over him and the side meant for the occupant beside to rest on the floor. Thomas slept soon after, the only reason for him to stay up would be uncertainty or danger and Evie elicited neither emotion in him.

He really was leaving her wet and she could feel the cold air from the ceiling affecting her as her teeth lightly chattered. Evie made the mistake of lying down, the bottom sheet absorbed the moisture and for several hours she lay on damp bedding, feelings reminiscent of being small and soiling herself being evoked. Eventually she too fell asleep but it was a light sleep, one she fell out of several times. The last time she woke up felt more pleasant than the previous times, it took her sleepy brain a second to figure out why then she realised someone - Thomas obviously - had his mouth against her slit.

"You took some time to wake, little girl. I was beginning to think I would have to make you come before those eyes of yours fluttered open," he glinted at Evie, his breath warm against her centre.

"Get...get off," it came out more like a moan than an instruction.

"You don't seem very sure," Thomas' eyes reflected amusement and several proper groans escaped Evie when he took her clit between his tongue and lips and sucked.

"Thomas-..." Evie yelped, hips springing up as he bit one of her swollen lips painfully.

"You were told yesterday how to adress me, Evelyn," Evie felt like a silly child at having her full name, one never used by anyone, not even her parents, come out of the mouth belonging to a man resting between her parted legs.

"Daddy, stop," Evie tried again.

"No."

Thomas dipped his head down, two fingers parting Evie's glistening, pink lips and used the flat of his tongue to tap against her glossy nub and Evie found her protest turned to breathless yips from what almost hurt, _almost_ not quite, and she bit down on her bottom lip when the orgasm Thomas had been coaxing erupted.

Thomas did not clean up or allow the girl the opportunity to make herself comfortable before he left the bedroom, dressing in his running gear and closing the front door and locking it behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid I did warn that Thomas would be a much less pleasant captor than Loki, the beginnings of which are starting to happen.
> 
> If you are wondering why Thomas keeps telling her she will be giving him the info, I'm not being repetitive because I'm a thickie nor being forgetful here, it's because he wants to have that instilled in her that she will comply, especially during moments where she's vulnerable/within sexual surroundings, so even if she holds out it's made clear there can only be one end result. 
> 
> Oh, btw - The sun is a trash hole, you can tell from the the link title, but this Le Carre article is very interesting.  
> https://www.thesun.co.uk/archives/news/209153/i-dreamed-of-butchering-my-paedo-father-meet-real-life-villain-behind-new-spy-drama-the-night-manager/
> 
> "People who have had very unhappy childhoods are pretty good at inventing themselves.  
> If nobody invents you for yourself, nothing is left but to invent yourself  
> for others.”
> 
> Right. In. The. Feels.


	7. Do You Eat Eggs?

Thomas let himself back into his home, re-setting the thermostat to its usual temperature and placing his sweaty clothes in the laundry hamper and also leaving his trainers behind in the utility room off the kitchen. Walking naked from there to the bathroom, he had a quick shower to remove the sweat and musk brought first from his arousal when tasting Evie and then from the run itself. He didn't want to return to the bedroom immediately, the mix of testosterone, cortisol and adrenaline released in his body during exercise left Thomas in a more aggressive frame of mind with pin-point accuracy to where it would be directed; there was a reason he favoured running over competitive sports, the private hospital bills and payoff to both the club and individual over a match-point call he disputed against behind one of the last times. The oil and water inside him changing polarity, as the seemingly calm waters that were turbulent under the surface took hold much in the same way as he had taken hold of the other man and slammed his face to the ground. No lasting damage - the broken nose was reset perfectly and the front veneers the best quality.

Clean and dressed casually in dark blue Levis, barefooted and a cobalt linen shirt rolled up to his elbows, Thomas was just finishing buttoning up, leaving the top two undone, as he entered the bedroom. Observing a sleeping Evie, Thomas approached her; in his absence, she must have used her unsecured legs to hook the bed covers as they were over her as best as she could manage but twisted. The air was no longer frigid, but the room had not settled back in line with the rest of the space, the hairs on the back of his arm standing like soldiers confirming it. Climbing onto the bed and kneeling over Evie, Thomas opened the cuffs and gently moved her wrists down, thumb and forefinger massaging against her nerves to loosen any stiffness.

Evie woke to Thomas' touch a second time, a wariness settling over her then uncertainty as she felt him rubbing the soreness of being in one position for too long from her. With a deep breath she opened her eyes, the last however long he was out having been the best sleep she'd had since falling asleep wet the night before. It took a little bit of uncomfortable twisting to have pulled the duvet with her toes around her, but once she was semi-covered Evie had felt more protected; the duvet acting like armour to her overexposed body. Evie met Thomas' eyes but didn't say anything, watching him in wait to see what was going to happen next, the dynamics since the night before where first they'd fucked but then he'd left her naked and wet was upsetting and strange. She had no frame of reference for how to act. No book, film or anything in her life had taught her what she should be doing. Not even her degree was any use, criminology undergrad, taken because it sounded interesting and clever not because Evie knew exactly where to progress and what to do with her life once she had completed.

"If you go take a bath, I'll make breakfast," Thomas' face looked open and inviting, a stark contrast from hours before where the devil had brought her into an orgasm knowing full well she hadn't wanted it whilst simultaneously aching for the next swipe due to the skilful use of his tongue.

Evie didn't want to walk nakedly past him but she couldn't see a way around that, it would be too ridiculous to wrap the very full, super-king duvet around herself. Thomas must have read her mind because she watched him get off the bed, walk over to the closet which was so large it was practically a room unto itself and returned with a jersey robe. Evie took it gratefully and put it on, not looking his way as she slipped the fabric around her shoulders.

Making the water hotter than it needed to be, Evie slid under so just for a moment she could pretend to be elsewhere. Childhood home, grotty student digs, half decent shared student flat: anywhere. But when her lungs begged for air and she sat up with a great big gasp Evie was still in Thomas Pine's luxurious bathroom and the gasp turned into a sob, which Evie stopped with a hard and painful pinch to her thigh. 

Be brave, don't cry, that's what she had been taught. From falling over and skinning her knees to her parent's divorce. She had lost herself in tears with Thomas before and all it had done was made her feel weak and stupid and she needed that bravery deep inside her for all the times Thomas would demand she give him the pictures. He hadn't told her, as he usually did, how long she had so Evie took longer but it wasn't even fifteen minutes before her anxiety led to restlessness.

Wrapped in the dressing gown once dry and with her hair twisted in a towel around her head, Evie carefully opened the door and was greeted with the rich smell of brewing coffee. Making her way carefully to the kitchen, the island in the middle had several plates laid upon it; smoked salmon with lemon wedges and cracked black pepper over the top; several ramekins of berries; a bowl of still steaming scrambled eggs. Thomas sat on one stool sipping black coffee and smiled when he saw her, another invitingly friendly expression that Evie didn't know how to react to, so she didn't and sat across from him, scared to serve herself in case he whipped it all away.

"Do you eat eggs?" Evie nodded as Thomas served her and she took a large sip of coffee to steady her nerves.

 


	8. Air is a Gift

Evie ate her eggs meticulously slow once she was certain Thomas wasn't playing a cruel trick and planning to snatch it from her, for one they were really good and for another, having two normal meals in a row had become the best luxury money, well Thomas' whims, could ever buy. Evie wanted to savour every tiny bite as a comfort in case the stale sandwiches made an unwelcome return. She kept throwing glances at him as she took seconds, eyes backwards and forwards mimicking Wimbledon going from her mildly unsteady hand to Thomas who was engaged with his phone and paying her no attention. Considering then abandoning the idea of thirds, she was just too full, Evie finished the last of the coffee from the french press, taking the opaque liquid black.

Thomas had answered a few emails and read a couple of news articles and purposely hadn't looked at Evie whilst she ate, scanning discreetly when himself eating to see if at any point she relaxed but she hadn't. He didn't ask her to clear but she did anyway and rinsed then loaded his dishwasher, before wiping down the stove top and counter he had prepared the food. Thomas would, could and usually if he was at home cooked, the absence of evidence during Evie's stay had been to ensure that every time she ate her sad little roll, that directly in front of her she would view the very best of restaurant dishes London had to offer, to further browbeat her.

"I'm going to get changed," Evie nervously addressed Thomas.

"No," Thomas placed his phone in his back pocket as he got off the stool.

The expression which met his denial wasn't one of annoyance, but of uncertainty in her round, mossy dull eyes. Thomas waited to see if she would question him but Evie didn't, she stayed glued to the spot awaiting what came next. Leading the girl back toward the bedroom, hand on the small of her back, Thomas stopped when she was in the middle of the room and went to grab what he needed from inside the wardrobe. As well as ingredients for dinner, Thomas had purchased some other items on his way home the previous day and the bag was placed on the bed. Tugging the robe ties open, he slipped it off and let it fall and pool behind Evie's heels. Reaching inside the bag, he removed a deep purple, sheer mesh and satin ribbon bra and thong set. Evie went to take the bra from him and he slapped her hand away.

"Arms out," Thomas instructed and it took Evie a beat to comply, which earned her another slap on the hand. Firm but not painful.

The straps were slipped up her arms, and Thomas moved to stand behind Evie so he could position her breasts into each cup, hands sensual but not groping. Next came the knickers, which he told Evie to step into, having kneeled in front of the girl with his eyes glued to hers and pulled them up her legs, chest pressing against the front of her thighs, and over her rump with fingers running around the elastic resting against the middle of her butt to straighten it. Feeling Thomas' warm breath over her mound, Evie didn't notice her knees lightly pressing together in response; Thomas of course did and got to his feet, face perfectly blank.

Unravelling the towel from around Evie's head, her hair fell in damp waves; the water dimming the rich red tones of her locks into a plain brown. Thomas squeezed the very last of the water before pulling Evie toward the bed and telling her to sit down. Leaving with the wet towel, it too darker and a less interesting colour from the water, Thomas returned from the bathroom with a brush in his hand and he seated himself behind Evie. At first running his fingers to unknot her hair before taking the brush to it, sectioning where he brushed as it fully dried and the auburn was again visible.

Out of the bag also came a silk, printed sundress, which Thomas dressed Evie in, the girl having gotten no more used to these strange happenings tried to read anything from Thomas' expression but he was a closed book; the friendly and relaxed manner gone but replaced with something Evie didn't recognise.

The large television was the perfect distance from the comfortable but classically designed sofa and Thomas put on Shane, a Western from the fifties and patted his leg. Evie looked torn, flickering from the space beside Thomas where she  had been going to rest to where he'd made it clear she was to sit. Knowing there wasn't an argument to be made, or at least having no idea how to make a good one, Evie placed her bum down on his thighs and squeaked in surprise when he parted her primly closed knees open. Fingers resting over her mound, Evie squirmed as Thomas drummed his fingers against her except when her eyes would glaze and drift away from the picture in front of her, then he would sharply tell her to pay attention. All the while his fingers stayed busy and Evie knew that he knew she was wet. Beyond wet. She also had very little idea what happened on-screen during the one hundred and eighteen minutes the film was on.

When the credits rolled, Evie tried to stand up and Thomas gripped her waist stopping her.

"Where are you going?" a lazy tone about him.

"Bathroom," Evie again tried to push herself upwards fully expecting Thomas to now let go, when she wasn't locked up during the day, besides not being allowed to be away long, she had been able to visit the bathroom whenever she wanted to. He didn't.

"Did you ask permission?"

"No..-why...why would I?" Evie's head whipped round to look at Thomas.

"Anything you do, from now on, is a gift from me." Thomas affectionately kissed Evie's head, in contrast to his strict words which whilst said softly were no less frightening. 

"Wha..at?" Evie looked like a goldfish, the same stupid expression and parted mouth. "You, no." Thomas' face reflected annoyance at her no.

" _Everything_ is a gift little girl. That means right now, your daddy is granting you the ability to take a breath without permission. That could just as easily be withdrawn and I could make you beg and work for the oxygen you're inhaling."

Evie just stared completely aghast at the implications. Surely he couldn't be serious.  

Seeing the expression on Evie's face Thomas spoke again, "I don't believe you think I'm being sincere, which we should address sooner rather than later, darling."

Sliding Evie from his lap with a bump and getting up before pulling her to join him, Thomas spoke again, "take a few deep breaths for me."

When she had taken in several lungfuls, Thomas kissed her, face pressed hard against Evie's and tongue instantly meeting hers. The position allowed him access to air, but Evie's nose was flattened against his cheek. He wrapped his arms and enveloped her body, taking the opportunity to fondle her round ass. As a minute ticked by, then another, Evie tried to push away from Thomas whose hold was steel whilst he continued to kiss her deeply. Struggling in his unyielding embrace, Thomas ignored the fight Evie was trying to give and only when he decided to, his cheek wet from her tears of panic, did he step back as the girl crumbled in a heap of gasping and coughing.

"How do you show your gratitude?" Thomas waited until she was more composed.

"Th-thank you. Thank you daddy." Thomas pet the top of her head absentmindedly and told her she was allowed to visit the bathroom.

A missed call from Roper showed on his phone when he checked it whilst Evie was out of the room, followed by a text message instructing him to return the call immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so mr jaguar villain has _really_ come out to play, huh!


	9. Stamboul Train

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was hard work doing chapter titles on JotOS once I was 50ch in so I bit the bullet and went back over the past 8 here to save a future headache. *\0/*
> 
> Ok Tommy is slightly too hissy (not sexy sibilant but like I've smoked a pack last night and my throats is a bit fucked) but oh my, I may actually need to listen to The Red Necklace! https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=kx_gYSCRPpw
> 
> I'm seriously playing with the idea of either a Mr Pine or Mr Odin/Laufeyson fic (I can't deal with anything big - waheey pun - so maybe a one-shot or concise series) where the protagonist is a sex worker without a single negative reference from the author or main girl because I'm growing tired of seeing slurs used instead of SW in modern stories or poor put upon SW's. It's a job, it's fine. I mean there's lots of times it's not fine but plenty when it is, it's not always necessary to be condescending. Ahem I may have been exploring other stories lately and finding myself left annoyed and ranty ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

"Dicky," Thomas sounded jovial as the other man answered the phone.

"Pine, what's this I hear about Jeff Schroder no longer being in my employ?"

In truth, that was rather a vague way to describe violence and murder. Thomas himself had arranged for Schroeder to visit the warehouse a few roads off Brick Lane and there, instead of shifting a stash of weapons for a new venture as he had been told, Jeff's life had taken a turn for the worse. After establishing that Evie had been correct and the man had not recognised her as Roper's daughter, Thomas had strangled him to keep the mess to a minimum. Two men under him had disposed of the body, asking no questions because not only did one learn early one that it was just not done in this line of work but you certainly avoided it when a colleague was the one dead in front of you in case you would be next join them.

"He became greedy during this deal with Dima," Thomas tried to keep the annoyance from his voice. Four years and Roper would still query his actions. "The Russians were unaware of anything, but I decided it would be best to ensure he would not cause any problems in future."

"You decided, did you?" the older man questioned Thomas. "Schroeder has been known to me for a decade, Pine."

This time Thomas struggled to keep the annoyance from his voice, "I was not aware you wished me to run every detail by you, Dicky." From the earpiece he heard Roper laughing, mocking him for the slip of his calm nature and his hand tightened on the phone as he bid himself to calm down. 

"Relax Thomas, try not to get so worked up. I trust you did what was necessary but a courtesy call would not have gone amiss."

"Of course, Sir," his mask back in place, tone subservient but assured.

"Now then, is there anything else you've been keeping from me?" 

Thomas looked around the room, Evie still in the bathroom, "Nothing. Everything is progressing well with Telesca. I have some paperwork for you to cast your eye over when I see you next month but nothing urgent."

They talked for another minute before hanging up, Thomas slipping the phone into his back pocket when Evie returned, eyes still rimmed red though cheeks no longer blotchy.

"Kneel beside me. Until I instruct you otherwise, I am not bestowing you with the ability to walk."

Evie approached Thomas, making use of her legs for however long it was until she was allowed to be on them again and got down on the ground beside him.

"Wait there," Thomas walked away and returned a minute later with two items in his hands.

Kneeling himself so he was at the same level as Evie, he slipped the knotted rope which he had made into a leash around her throat. "This," he held up a gag with a bit at the end for horses, "will not be necessary if you remember not to speak."

Lifting himself back to standing, Thomas placed one end of the gag in his pocket, the slim cut of the jeans holding it in place as the remainder of it rested along his hip. Walking with the lead taut, Thomas lightly yanked to indicate for Evie to follow, which she did with mild difficulty in keeping up with his long legs on all fours.

They entered a room Evie had only been inside for minutes and supervised to clean once a week; Thomas' study. A black leather and cherry wood Eames lounger and ottoman nestled in an alcove in the room and closing the door shut, Thomas walked to it and sat down, feet resting on the ottoman and crossed at the ankle.

"Climb onto my lap," he tugged the lead upwards so her head bobbed.

With extreme difficulty and lack of coordination that not being able to use her legs guaranteed, Evie managed to place her knees on the side of the chair and hoist herself upward and straddle Thomas who rewarded her with a caress on her right cheek.

"Lean forward and pass one of the books you can reach and place it in my hands," pushing herself on her knees for balance and bending toward the bookcase beside them, Evie's dress rose up to the tops of her thighs and she was startled when Thomas' hands grasped her ass with both hands, one either side. "Careful darling," he admonished when she wobbled from his actions.

Handing him the book she managed to pull from the shelf, whilst his hands distracted her by playing with the elastic of the g-string her had dressed her in, she stayed in the same position as he opened it and began to read the Graham Greene novel, hand still coiled around her leash. 

Despite the strangeness of it, Evie found herself enraptured watching Thomas; it was as if it were only him and the story playing behind those shrewd blue eyes and Evie didn't exist. The way his tongue moistened his lip and rested there for a moment when he seemed especially captured, the crinkle of skin around his eyes when something amused him and he seemed to speed up on occasion, face enthralled and eager to read on. Evie learned more during this experience than she had combined so far, of the Thomas underneath this suffocating man. Metaphorically, he had already done exactly that and stopped her from breathing earlier literally.

Placing the publication on the arm to his left, his right and dominant hand unwound the rope slightly, lifting Evie's chin with a forefinger, her head moving forward from the looser but still taut line connecting them, Thomas spoke, " You've been a very well behaved pet and it would be remiss of me to not cater to your needs, and remember you _will_ give me the pictures, Evie."

Saying nothing further, Thomas pushed her off of his lap and Evie landed on the carpet with a soft thump and a hurt look she couldn't hide. Standing and striding out of the study and past the locked door in the kitchen, Evie saw Thomas had a garden that she hadn't been aware of previously, none of the windows to the flat faced outside in that part of his home.

"You will need to remain under control until I know you can behave, but know that the way this was designed means nobody but I can see you." Thomas was correct, the high walls were angled in such a way that shielded any neighbours or passers by but done so elegantly that it resembled a private oasis, rather than a prison. Everything about his home allowed Thomas the ultimate isolation without compromising style or feeling claustrophobic. "Come on," he sounded impatient when the girl didn't move onto the grass.

"I'm not a _dog_ ," Evie cried out plaintively and the impatience turned to cold, calm, fury.

Bending back down to face Evie as he had earlier, Thomas took out the bit and letting the lead fall to the concrete area she was still on he instead held onto her by the hair to allow him to secure it in place, ignoring the whimper she made when it was pushed between her teeth.

"I would suggest," Thomas said dispassionately when he was back on his feet and stepping out onto the warm grass, "that you do not complain again."

Evie followed miserably, big, round tears falling from her eyes around the circuit of the garden as Thomas humiliatingly walked her around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ball gags I find gives such jaw ache and open rings ditto but worse plus Much Drool, can I close my jaw please waaah. So, if you have similar princess like delicacies but are curious, try a bit. More comfortable and less intimidating. Still a little drool but minimal.


	10. Soup for the Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why Tom and I could never be. M8 it's not that serious, not everything is. I get why Famous Actor wouldn't want twitter (all the 'daddy' replies would get tiresome. The sane among us just say it in our heads..!) but I would have an anonymous one just to chat the shit. Bloody love Twitter.  
> https://youtu.be/ZxpdlzkKGM4
> 
> I'm also reading Different Bloods rn (Loki/OFC) which has beautiful prose and you should too  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/6953995

Thomas walked Evie back inside, her head still bent down miserably, and took her into his second bathroom, this one more intended for guests as he usually kept his main one his alone.

"Sit down on your bum for me, darling," he said kindly and Evie rolled over, knees bent and stained green and brown from her 'walkies'.

Resting down and balancing on one leg with the other knee to the ground in almost a proposing pose, Thomas undid the buckle behind Evie's head and carefully removed the damp bit from between her teeth, using his thumb to wipe the drool around her chin.

Standing and moving to the sink area, he opened a drawer and removed a box of tissues and a small bottle of cream cleanser, one of the things he ensured was having a selection of high quality toiletries to avoid the need for anyone to bring their own belongings. Not that he allowed anything resembling a long-term relationship however, Thomas disliked staying elsewhere with the exception of hotels when he didn't wish to bring a woman into his home or when paying for a sex worker escort, as was frequently easier. Roper, somewhat of a romantic in as much as a man who dealt in death could be, on the other hand had girlfriends; previously an American named Jed whom Thomas had found attractive and as such kept his distance when he'd seen reciprocation behind her eyes. He had casual flings and lovers, it allowed him the freedom to be in this world without the attachments that a partnership would demand and he could not reciprocate even if willing.

Returning to his position beside her he popped the cap off and pressed on the nozzle, the cream ejaculating onto the tissue and discarding the bottle beside him, Thomas began wiping at Evie's palms gently whilst her eyes remained downcast. Followed by her knees until the marks were gone. A clean tissue was brushed around her mouth to remove any traces of saliva.

"Evelyn, this could all stop if you would help me and yourself," his tone was soft as Evie met his eyes and he smoothed her hair which had become tangled from the gag. "If you continue holding out, you must at the very least obey me. I have no recourse but to follow through with what I've said," Thomas sounded regretful and Evie didn't know why.

Back on his feet, Thomas held his hand out towards her, "Come," he was still sounding kind and Evie gingerly grasped his firm hand and stood up, a soft groan escaping her lips from feeling stiff. Back in the living room, Evie was seated on the couch and she reached for the throw behind it and wrapped it around herself. It wasn't chilly, the temperature outside had been rather too warm and inside Thomas' air conditioned space it was perfect but Evie felt cold inside herself.

Handing over the television remote controller after pressing the on button, "I'll prepare lunch," Thomas said walking to the kitchen which was off the room.

Evie scooted sideways so she was laying down on the sofa, the contrast between his behaviour again confusing her and with some unknown black and white film on the screen showing embracing lovers, Evie drifted into a nap.

In front of his refrigerator Thomas took out a handful of tomatoes, the fridge mostly bare beyond a few remnants. With a paring knife in one hand he placed the first fruit on the chopping board and meticulously sliced it into rounds, repeating the action with the other four. Removing the fluttery paper skin from the garlic bulb came next, sharp acid smell despite its alkaline scale filtering up his nostrils. Those he left intact, aside from piercing each bulb a couple of times with the end of the knife. Laying the rings and garlic on a tray, Thomas drizzled it all with a basil oil from his cupboard.

As the ingredients roasted, Thomas reflected upon the past forty-eight hours; it had been simpler when the routine between himself and Evie had been set. Detachment of another person within his home easier to maintain whilst ignoring the ticking time-bomb of the days passing without her acquiescence, the pressure of how little time remained now creating an invisible noose around his neck to match her rope collar. The women Thomas had around him intermittently always matched him in age, and the child-like eyes which she hadn't yet grown out of when they stared at him were unpleasant to be reflected upon. Thomas knew who he has, knew his place in the world and he accepted it, but this was a grown ups world and this not-quite woman didn't even manage to show hatred, which he was used to seeing, that and fear, no from her there was just uncertain acceptance tinged with her desire to do the right thing.

His phone vibrated, indicating the first stage of food was ready and with a cloth to protect his hands, Thomas removed the now softened and lightly blackened tomatoes and garlic into a large stockpot. Rinsing the tray and placing it in his dishwasher and setting the oven to self clean before continuing, Thomas looked through the doorway at the lightly snoring Evie. When the soup was finished, he didn't know why beyond necessity of few ingredients for something simple he had made soup in the middle of summer but he too felt chilled, he took two bowls and filled them with the steaming liquid. There was no fresh bread but his store cupboard contained a packet of crackers, a nicer brand than he had eaten growing up when everything was supermarket own brand, but this was one of the meals he had made his mother when she was sick, he realised with a flicker. A more complicated version, his childhood had not allowed the extra expense of using the oven and stove nor basil oil but in essence, it was the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MISREALL CAN YOU UNBREAK UP WITH HIM A BIT *sobs at your feet*


	11. Relevé in Fifth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being ill certainly suited my writing muscle as I did a flurry of posts for my Loki story. But it meant leaving these two with unfinished soup, which I can now rectify.

'You just gonna sit there.'

'In the dark.'

'You're enjoying this, right?'

Thomas ran a hand through his cropped, wavy hair, his leg crossed over the other and running a knuckle across his top lip with his free hand. A few metres away from him was Evie, hands bound above her as she balanced on tip-toes and occasionally twisted around similar to a ballerina in one of those cheap, musical jewellery boxes. The curve of her arched back elongating the top portion of Evie but her lower body was not mimicking false litheness. Tremulous flesh caused by the light sway of her on the mound that was Evie's bare, save for the flimsy scrap of fabric between her cheeks, buttocks and exaggerated hips made the cellulite even more noticeable. Dimpled flesh resembling citrus peel and Thomas wanted to sink his teeth in those scattered areas to see if they were ripe. 

* * *

  
Earlier

* * *

Striding out with the bowls perfectly balanced in his hands, Thomas placed them on the coffee table and brushed his fingers through Evie's hair to wake her. She looked disorientated initially before her brain caught up with her waking body, resignation settling into its place.

"Lunch is ready," Thomas indicated to the soup on the table and the smaller plate with the crackers which he'd lightly buttered.

"Th-thanks," Evie's voice caught in her throat from lack of use and she cleared it, the noise not overly pleasant to Thomas' ears.

He handed her one of the bowls and she took it, keeping her fingers along the large, porcelain rim which wasn't hot. Taking several crackers at once, Evie dropped them all in the soup, the butter melting from the steaming liquid and creating a glossy, yellow pool on the surface around. 

Thomas observed how she ate, leaving the savoury biscuits to get soft and thickening the soup with it, making more of a rich paste for each mouthful. He took his meal in a more traditional way, the joy coming from the simple soup coating the crispy cracker and warming the spread. He did not make conversation, knowing when they talked that the unpleasantness of the situation was clearer to them both, though Evie didn't know it wasn't only she who found this play without an intermission intolerable, instead they could both just be whilst they silently shared a meal.

When done, Thomas allowed Evie to clear up as was customary, noticing that when she bent forward that even just a few days of regular and filling food was already starting to show on her physique, which he was pleased about. Standing in the kitchen doorway waiting until she was finished, Evie stood uncertainly in front of him once she had nothing more to occupy herself with.

"The gift I am withdrawing from you now, is comfort. Come with me," Thomas turned on his heels and made his way to the bedroom with complete certainty that Evie would follow even before he heard her.

From under the bed, Thomas pulled out a heavy, big, old leather trunk and placed it in the centre of the room, before climbing on top and reaching upward, he took out several sets of hand-spun, raw silk, ropes in an off white colour. Evie looking at the way his shirt rode up so she could see some of his flat stomach with the light smattering of hair really wanted to step closer and inhale, whilst at the same time run away whilst Thomas was distracted. She didn't dare do either. Unclicking the hoop from its holder which served to keep it flat and flush with the ceiling, Thomas straightened it so it dangled downward before looping one of the ropes which he had brought up with him; he secured it to the suspension ring making a half-hitch spiral knot. Pushing the chest out of the way but not returning it to where it lived once he was back on the ground, Thomas roughly put his hands on Evie, who gave a small jump at him startling her. Quick movements made a simple job of unzipping the silk sundress and leaving it to flutter onto the carpet and with groping hands he unpeeled the bra which had left nothing to the imagination anyway, his bare feet lightly kicking both garments away and straightening Evie's stance as Thomas instructed her to hold her arms out. Ignoring the girl who watched him working intently, he made flogging cuff ties on each wrist.

"Remember," Thomas cupped Evie's chin delicately in his hand, "you have the ability to end this at any time." He placed a ghost of a kiss over her lips and let go of her face.

Affixing the end of the ropes to his previous labours overhead, Thomas pulled and bound Evie in such a way that she could either balance on her toes or feel an uncomfortable tugging from her shoulders; there was no resting position and both would cause discomfort in fairly short spaces of time. Evie didn't raise a complaint, there wasn't any point and the last time she had she would up with that horrible gag between her teeth whilst being paraded as best in show at Crufts. Just like those dogs, her current master didn't have her best interests at heart, Evie thought miserably, he just wanted to win.

"Close your eyes," he commanded and Evie did, the touch moments later of something cool covering the top half of her face and then the feeling of his firm hands knotting it behind her head. "Now, I am going to place earplugs in, though I will not return the gag to your mouth. I need to be able to hear you tell me that you're ready to talk," Thomas explained, the act not for kindness but practicality.

Once he had placed the little black and malleable plugs inside each canal he stalked over to the window, the view obscured for anyone passing outside as with the garden. Thomas unlatched the blind cord and pulled the blackout fabric down, plunging the room into almost total blackness. He had not wanted the loss of sight to be dulled by Evie knowing the room was now dark which is why he waited until she could neither see nor hear.

Seating himself down, Thomas could still see the girl's outline and further and more intimate details once his eyes accustomed to the dusk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't think what I was looking for, if anything specific, when the [end credits scene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jl39iEh3OJc) of Skull Island caught my eye on YouTube (not actually seen the film). But those three lines, which I've borrowed to use in another context, showing up just as captions on a black screen were mesmerising ~~I mean arousing actually, let's call a spade a vagina, eh~~.
> 
>  
> 
> [A super hot TH masturbation short](http://archiveofourown.org/works/558053#bookmark-form). One note though, if you read this person's other, longer series 'Yes, Tom' and BDSM isn't much of your rl experience (and certainly if total power exchange is something you've got designs on probably especially but don't know much about dynamics of stuff) allow me to say in advance: some of what goes on is abusive. The author gets quite defensive, states they know Doms to have been stricter and it's littered with deleted comments (I don't know what was said, deletion is perfectly warranted in your own spaces). I'm not here to ever usually comment on anyone's stuff, it's fiction fun and many of us in the explicit circles here write stuff that is abusive, that's cool but we don't pretend that outside of these fiction walls everything is OK. And not recognising that things like fear of telling your D about something and it isn't even that you've done anything wrong, that is a Problem. These can be worked on if both parties are able to change potentially, yes but just because your genitals gets off on something doesn't always mean it's what's best emotionally or hasn't been executed in an abusive way. So if you do read the story (there's some really hot and interesting stuff within it but I got to around 17/8 and skipped about 8 chapters to just read the last two chapters in the end because it was Too Much to ignore from the author) do be mindful of this when it comes to the notes/comments.


	12. Dark Spaces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck why did no one tell me about [Hiddles and Cookie Monster](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=x5FhEJra62E)? This is what happens when you previously had no interest in someone, you miss the great shit.

It was uncomfortable and intimidating for Evie to wait as long as he'd left her but this wasn't the reason Thomas hadn't stood up yet. Hadn't approached her. Hadn't reached into the heavy case and taken out what he intended to use. His own derisive mind was correct, he was enjoying this and watching the girl twirl and that would cease the moment he did what came next. Even though nobody could hear him, Thomas stiffled the loud sigh he wanted to escape him, composed as ever.

Lifting the lid of the leather trunk, Thomas emptied it fully, removing one of its most punishing contents last. Smooth wood against his palm and on the main body of the paddle was thick, knotted ropes all around the border. The force of the wood and the sting of the rope would be felt upon impact, this was no lightweight slapper. Previously when using it he had been hard, the receiver fearful which fanned his dark desires but they'd been excited also and that for him kept him in check but this was not what was to come Thomas knew, and inside his boxers his dick had been flaccid since getting up.

Rubbing the tough edges of rope across the soft skin of Evie's rear, the girl stiffend in response followed by a strangled noise when he took the first swing. There was no delicate way to use this implement even if that had been his intention, the bulky knots acting as a painful meat tenderiser but on live flesh not cut steak.

Another nineteen firm strikes followed, the only noises to be heard was the contact of racket to skin, in between cries, then sobs, from Evie as she tried to beg him to stop but it came out choked up.

Thomas could feel the heat from Evie's bottom, the blood so far on the surface her round arse looked even plumper and he wished he had his own set of earplugs in so he could hear nothing beyond his pulse against his eardrum. Dropping the paddle with little care rather inelegantly to the floor, Thomas went and collected a tube and squirted the cool gel onto his palm, as he rubbed it into Evie who writhed in pain at his touch, the heat of her turning the salve warm. He unbound her wrists, first from above her head then from the ties completely, whilst Evie softly cried. Once that was done he plucked the earplugs out and slipped the blind off. Turning the ceiling light on, Evie's cheeks looked blotchy from tears and moving like a somnambulist, allowed him to lead her to the front of the trunk. It was only once he had helped her step inside and sit down that the pain of resting on her already bruising cheeks seemed to snap her attention, and Evie realised what has happening.

"No, Thomas, please no," She cried out and he had to hold against her resistance, twisting her body so Evie lay on her side.

_click._

Thomas walked over to the door, turned the lights off and opened and closed the door shut. Inside the trunk Evie was yelling, pleading to be let out and kicking against where her feet rested. That stopped very quickly as she found the movement made her aching behind connect with the back of the hard trunk and the shooting pain further contact brought on was too much to bear. When the tiny sliver of light along the edges was snuffed out and she heard the door open and close, Evie cried so hard she started to cough and choke.

Thomas, who had not left but silently sat on his own floor, was listening to something he could not put a stop to and clenched his fists when the choking noises began, tense and ready to pull Evie out if her breathing did not regulate. It did after a minute but Thomas remained taut, glancing at his phone twice to check the time and after the first hour made a pretence of entering the room. Taking a bottle of water from his bedside table, Thomas unlocked the chest and a still crying Evie sobbed quietly. 

"Drink," he whispered and brought the bottle to her lips, the sports cap it had allowing her to suck it without spilling everywhere. Once Evie had drunk a quarter of the bottle, Thomas pulled it away from her and pushed her head back down so the lid could again close. The false routine with the door recreated, Thomas returned to his spot and waited for a further hour to pass, then another. Evie would sometimes stop crying, other times she would chant endlessly begging for him to come back.

He no longer felt like the second worst man in the world but as if he had dethroned Roper, the experience settling on him as a malevolent force that he wanted to escape from.

And yet he waited longer, two more hours passed. Then and only then did he swing the bedroom door open, flood the room with light and pull up the chest's lid, Evie's eyes blinking in pain from the brightness and swollen from hours of tears. Helping her stand and holding her, Evie's legs were wobbling under her, Thomas led the girl to the bed and helped her lay side-ways, avoiding sitting down.

"Give me the pictures, Evelyn," Thomas' voice was neutral, though his eyes watchful and concerned at the now shivering girl, who throughout had been clad in only the thong he had left on.

Thomas didn't have to wait long for a reply, a tiny sound came from Evie, "ok".

The details of where they were saved on an online server took her a minute to relay, Evie struggling to speak properly and make enough sense, so much so that she messed up the password the first time. Once he had access via his phone, Thomas quickly saved the information for himself, then deleted the files and sent a message through to one of the programmers within The Corporation he worked closely with, detailing for them to remove all traces of data and the account itself.

Attention back on Evie, Thomas covered the cold girl and held onto her. Evie tried to push him away quite feebly but even though he was the cause of her pain and fear, being held by warm arms, fingers stroking along her hairline, was impossible to decline. She felt hollow and terrified and the strong arms around her helped. Eventually shock melted into exhaustion and Evie slept. Thomas didn't, fingers remained stroking her even once she was past being aware.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this was a horrible chapter, (as in, my poor Evie) I didn't enjoy writing it but it had to be done to move the story forward and expand the world. I need Thor and Panda Pop again though tbh. :c
> 
> I'm a nosy lil' bitch so I watched the Tay vid (I'm not really aware of her stuff because I only listen to music I know like a grandma, if your grandma likes [Combichrist](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Z_4KEwX5FDw), who if you don't know allow me to select an S&M-y song for your delectation) to see if there was anything Tom related. Just the I❤️TS black crops.


	13. Unexpected Journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started a new, short, series feauring Crimson Peak Thomas: [These Are The Rules](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11929404).

The sky was still dark behind the blinds when Evie woke up, feeling Thomas' heavy hand on her face, rough padded thumb still occasionally rubbing the way he had when she was awake, though with less frequency. Shifting on the spot, a sharp noise came out of Evie when the side nearest the bed brushed against her bottom, which caused her to sit up in shock and yell again.

"Lie down," Thomas instructed, his palm pressing down on Evie's shoulder as he pulled himself to a sitting position. 

"I need to go to the bathroom," Evie tried rolling on her knees but it was hard work. She felt Thomas' gentle embrace a moment later helping her and walking her out. Once she was done and back in bed, Thomas sat with her for a few minutes in silence.

Feeling the pressure on the bed lighten, Evie couldn't tell where Thomas had gone, and she felt her throat constrict in fear. He had what he wanted yes, but she had no idea what would come next, that trunk had been - well, terrifying didn't cover it. Initially he had told her all she had to do was give him the pictures and she could go back to her life, put this behind her. But as the weeks in captivity increased he no longer said it, just demanded the information from her.

Thomas opened his bathroom cabinet and took out the box of oramorph solution, removing the bottle from it and pouring out 5ml. 

"Swallow this," Thomas handed the measuring cap to Evie in the dark, feeling for her hands in advance to ensure she had a firm grip as he could no longer see clearly having gone into a lit room from this darkened one. He could see her outline well enough though to notice her hesitate, "it's a small measure of morphine sulphate, to help you go back to sleep and ease your pains. It won't harm you."

 _I won't harm you,_ Thomas wanted to say, but there was little point when her bruises and current aches were a result of his actions. It would only sound hollow to them both.

Evie tipped the little plastic cup in her mouth and swallowed, a pang of a memory clutching at her heart of being ill as a child and given the not very pleasant and luminous green Night Nurse, by her mother. Then she had felt safe, nothing like now. She believed Thomas that the medication wouldn't cause her damage, what she didn't know was if he would again when she was awake. Thomas instructed her to rest and Evie placed her head back on the pillow, feeling annoyed at herself that when the door closed shut she no longer had anyone to hold her. He might be Lucifer, she reasoned but at least the devil was warm and she felt so cold. She'd never been beaten, even as a child her mother never raised a hand to her, Doctor Emma Richards preferred to talk to her when she was bad, explain and reason - sometimes too clinically. She hadn't had any playground fights either, the first time of being physically hurt came today, was it even still today Evie had no idea, from Thomas' hands. No, not his hands but whatever horrible thing he had used to strike her with. 

Thomas glanced briefly through his cupboards but the previously well stocked kitchen was much depleted, and there was an absence of anything fresh. Glancing at his phone he saw it was twenty-to-two and anything beyond the off license was shut, even on a Saturday night. Taking the suede shoes from the shoe holder in the hall, Thomas laced them on and grabbing his keys quietly left his flat. The corner shop had one small refrigeration unit, within it he saw small blocks of pale yellow mild cheddar, not his usual taste in cheese but along with the round Turkish breads it sold, it seemed they would be eating another meal from his childhood. The bread would probably be nicer than the plastic squares he had consumed then. Also buying a selection of chocolate bars, Thomas walked back home.

The light suddenly filling part of the room from the doorway made Evie blink back repeatedly, her brain starting to feel foggy. Thomas walked in with a tray and placed it on the bed, Evie could see from the brightness of the hallway bulbs that it looked like cheese on toast. Plus, oddly, there were 7 different types of chocolate; a lion bar, a small bag of maltesers, mars bar, bounty, yorkie, kit-kat and an aero mint.

"Sweet tooth?" Evie asked, puzzled.

"I didn't know which you would prefer, but eat the bread first whilst it's warm," Thomas instructed.

Still laying on her side, Evie leant on one elbow and picked up a slice, biting down and chewing whilst feeling utterly confused. She declined a second slice but her hands shyly moved to the chocolates, picking up the maltesers. Thomas observed Evie whilst eating both his food and the slice she didn't want, it looked like she was resting each ball on her tongue for a time before crunching down, allowing, he would guess, the chocolate to melt off the malted milk rounds. Her eyes turned heavy and Thomas cleared away, leaving the tray in the sink along with the plates, the act of being untidy alien to him. Back in his bedroom with the door closed and hall light off, Thomas covered Evie with the summer duvet and removed his clothes getting into bed to sleep.

Thomas woke from being shaken, clearly after dawn but it felt early, "Thomas please, it hurts," Evie whimpered, and he was up quickly. He brought the bottle this time, pouring another small measure of the morphine, the four-to-six hour window of relief it gave almost up.

"Drink this for daddy," he said automatically but unintentionally, his own brain still murky from sleep which had stopped him from catching himself. Evie did, crying softly from the pain until she got sleepy again.

Thomas spent the day tending to the girl, helping her shower as sitting in a bathtub was too painful but he didn't touch her beyond what was necessary. Dressed in one of the original jersey dresses he had provided for her, without any underwear as Evie couldn't bear her purple and blue backside to be touched by anything. She had sobbed so much that Thomas had abandoned his task, and telling Evie to hold onto the shower wall, he had stepped out and brought back a pair of safety scissors to cut the thong off when he had been helping her wash. Evie had flinched, despite Thomas telling her what he was doing and why. _Who could blame her_ , he thought.

Within twenty four hours of his beating, Evie was already managing to get around unaided and place very light pressure on her butt, which cemented his decision. Monday morning arrived and Thomas dressed for work but his routine was changed. Witnessing Thomas slip on black leather gloves, Evie began to tremble in fright and when Thomas told her to come with him and she stepped outside for the first time in months, with the exception of the garden just days before, Evie wanted to run. She didn't, she had no idea where to go or who Thomas might hurt if she tried to signal for help, she just silently cried in the car for the whole journey. The passenger door opened once they'd stopped, Thomas having come round and Evie realised with shock they were outside her London flat, bought by her father and where she stayed during the holidays from Durham University.


	14. Home Sweet Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m fighting against the treacle of my brain and life but I missed Thomas and Evie desperately even if I have no idea if what’s going come out is any good; hope for the best is, well, in no way my motto I just missed T&E.  
> **this bit of the note is only relevant to fellow writers tbh**  
> Know if I am known to read your stories that I still am, I just can’t make myself say anything nice right now because my head is wonky but it’s all good work as usual I am just a vile ball of crap inside that is affecting everything but has nothing to do with anyone else so it would be unfair to comment bc it will involve me being weirdly robotic/too strong an opinion for any badly behaving characters. I can’t even for the most part retain what I’m reading properly either to make matters worse as things aren’t Great presently, but it’s not you. I’m sorry I can’t support you, I kinda pride myself on being supportive to ppl as one of my good qualities so if it helps any I feel like shit for not, more than you could think me a piece of shit for it but you can think it too of course. I’m very sorry I hope to get better so I can be a better friend, I just don’t really have a timeframe right now :(

Evie watched with a pinched mouth as Thomas unlocked her front door, she hadn’t had keys in so long and having him open up her Home was too personal and stifling.

The Islington property was along one of the side roads, where the windows still had shutters, the pastel blue door reached by going up three stone steps so achingly familiar. An investment, her father had told her when her AS level results had been predicted to be all A stars; fully expecting her probably to follow her mother's footsteps and knowing the location was near to the major hospitals for rotations. When that hadn’t been the route taken, well the flat had already been bought and dad hadn’t seemed to care one way or another where her studies were taking her, unlike her mother.

Evie stood awkwardly in her hall, frozen like a statue, with the door shut behind her waiting as a guest would not someone whose house it was. Thomas was the one to lead the way to her living room, dropping the keys in a bowl, it was much different to his with the walls adorned with posters every teenager had. A bit of art, some sexy musicians and a sarcastic saying on the third. The decor was a mixture of her dad’s money and her own burgenoining tastes, nice glassware mixed with stolen pint glasses being one such example. Expensive, light coloured, fabric sofas covered in purple tie-dye throws from Camden market another. 

“Sit,” Thomas pointed to one of the sofas. One of _her_ sofas, Evie thought indignantly.

”You should too,” Evie churlishly pointed to the other one which faced it, separated by a glass and teak wood coffee table - which would be littered with mugs of finished tea and wine glasses from the previous stay were it not for the regular cleaning service that the credit card of a bill she didn’t pay saw to.

Evie’s snooty expression became quite pained when she sat down, even leaning on one side, the seat pressing more on the outter part of her hip than her rump, it was still hellish. Thomas unbottoned his suit jacket with bare hands deftly and sat, the leather gloves for driving having been removed and left in the car, lightly lifting the fabric of his trousers as he did so to allow for him to comfortably sit in the way well dressed gentlemen always did. From his inside jacket pocket a phone was removed, the rose gold iPhone indicating it was Evie’s device and not his and Thomas placed it on the Switzerland between them on the table. 

“My phone,” Evie said stupidly but she didn’t know what else to say.

”You mother has tired of only text messages, she’s requested you call her,” Thomas’ expression was unreadable.

“Text messages?”

”Sent by me as if from you,” Thomas explained, tone indicating it was rather obvious.

”You pretended to be me and contacted my mum!” Evie snapped, livid at this in a way that she wasn’t about being beat.

”You were indisposed.”

”You were holding me against my will,” Evie barked to a completely unaffected Thomas. “Worried I’ll tell her, is that why you’re here?”

“You would not, the same way you never screamed to draw attention, didn’t run today when you could have. I would ensure that anyone whose eyes you brought my way would be...disposed of.”

Evie inwardly shivered at the casual way he spoke of murder but Thomas was right, she had known this and that’s why she never tried to escape from him, “So that’s it then, you shake my hand and I never see you again?”

”I’ll be seeing you in a few short weeks when you visit your father. Speaking of the holiday, you’ll want to buy arnica cream in advance of being seen in a swimsuit to help your bruising fade,” the man who had held Evie and ran his fingers through her hair was gone, this Thomas was all business with zero warmth.

”I don’t want to go,” Evie stated matter of fact, trying and failing to match Thomas’ tone.

“You’re not being given the option, Evie. I will be watching you until you leave for Spain, and I will be there when your reunion with Dicky occurs.”

”I want to forget this, you. Why do I have to go?” Evie questioned miserably.

”The fear will fade, with it you might decide what if you just spoke with your father, he would understand. Years from now perhaps.”

”I wouldn’t,” Evie was cut off.

”Yes, you probably would and in doing so you would sign both of our fates,” Thomas finished.

”So what, you’re my permanent shadow, keeping me scared?”

”For the foreseeable future,” Thomas nodded.

”Then you didn’t really let me go did you, I’m just in a bigger cage,” Evie’s chest tightened.

“Most would be grateful at this over the alternative,” Thomas sounded clipped, annoyance at everything he had done going completely unnoticed. “Call your mother.”

Evie reached for the phone and jumped with a start when Thomas’ hand clamped down on top of hers, sandwiching her between himself and her telephone, “what will you tell her?” 

“I-I don’t know. I didn’t think, I’m not sure,” Evie babbled, caught unaware by what she was supposed to do.

”If you read through the messages you’ll see that you went away, took a trip to India after your Third Year became too much and you were unsure if you didn’t want to change courses.”

”Great,” Evie muttered, her mum would both be annoyed at her abandoning her responsibilities and that the degree they’d argued over was so easily discarded. Evie read through the messages, her mother’s exactly how Evie had pictured. Once she had practiced what she would say at Thomas’ behest, Evie took a deep breath and pressed the buttons necessary before placing the handset against her ear.

The phone stopped ringing on the third chime and Evie heard the familiar and perfectly manicured voice of her mother on the other end.

”I am due at a medical conference shortly Evelyn, are you back in the country?”

”Yes mum, hi mum,” Evie couldn’t help the sigh.

”Your brother has missed you,” Dr. Richards ignored her daughter’s strop.

”I’ve missed him too.”

”Not enough to telephone, evidently.”

”Mum, I said in the messages, the signal wasn’t great and sometimes there wasn’t even one working with my phone,” Evie parroted, as rehearsed.

”Not a concern you would have faced had you remained in England,” her mother commented pointedly.

The two women spoke for a few more minutes, the conversation just short of bickering and Evie apologised for worrying her mother and upsetting Danny, promising she would arrange for them to fly to Majorca together in a bid to make it up to him. The conversation around her studies turned sour and Evie was grateful when her mother cut the conversation, even if inside she wanted to cry she didn’t want an argument. Thomas still being there when she was done, the lack of peace to process the call, to process everything, made the feeling of anxiety climb within her.

“There I’ve called, please can you go?” Evie wasn’t rude or curt, her voice was small and young.

”You will arrive in Spain as arranged,” Thomas spoke as he stood and Evie didn’t reply but there wasn’t any need.

Back in his Jag, Thomas took out his own phone and opened the screen, loading up an app and a second later a crying Evie was visible on the screen in HD, face buried in a small cushion; the volume was off but could be turned on if necessary.

Thomas didn’t need to be with the girl to watch her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people have said ‘he wouldn’t let her go’, which makes me fear this is now a terrible idea but I mean in a modern world I thought surveillance could work as well as being together. And I wanted a different dynamic to Ara/Loki where the former is kept with Loki at all times.


	15. Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been off and on writing this chapter for almost 2 weeks. By which I did chunks in four parts then stared at the page in between each one, except to edit out in a bid curb my comma usage. I am a write, proof and edit, post gal and I can’t help feeling these gaps have made for a clunky chapter. I hope it’s more noticeable to me than you. Annoyingly last month I got someone sitting next to me at work which is where the interruptions mostly came from.

The mild bravado Evie had demonstrated, brought about by being in her own space, died away as quickly as it had fired up inside of her with the closing of the front door. Continuing to lay in the weird, side-ways position of a discarded and broken doll, Evie picked up one of her fluffy white cushions and cried into it. The tears didn't die away as she was accustomed to, as they had when she would do so during the day whilst handcuffed with Thomas away doing whatever it was bad men did at work in between killing for profit. The freedom of being somewhere safe meant every buried fear she had pushed down bubbled to the surface in loud and messy sobs and at one point she began to choke when her nose was too blocked to breathe properly, the howls of anguish not allowing for much oxygen to go into her lungs and Evie had to bite back the feeling of nausea. It didn't work, Evie shot up and ran to the kitchen sink not far behind the sofas in the open plan living and cooking area of her flat and was sick, mostly a thick, white, fluid along with the remains of undigested toast and the familiar burning flavour of stomach acid. Once she had calmed down Evie went into her bedroom, this entire time she was only ever in fucking dresses and she took off what she was wearing, including her underwear which didn't belong to her but had been given by Thomas for her to wear (another sheer set though this time in pink) and threw everything in the waste paper basket. She replaced them for a simple black unmatched set with boy shorts, not a stupid thong, and put jogging bottoms over the top and an old t-shirt with bleach stains from the time she tried to unsuccessfully go blonde in her first year. It had turned her auburn hair into something more suited to a stint playing Bozo the Clown, at the time.

The following fortnight was spent mostly ordering food on her phone, thankful for technology not requiring her to cook, and apart from a few frightening seconds at the door in collecting it she could mostly stay indoors and safe. As safe as she could pretend, always on alert knowing that Thomas knew where she was and could return to drag her back at any point and shatter her fragile security. Evie cried often, for long stretches and with such body wracking ferocity that after the first time there had been a break on any physical reactions but her feelings of distress worsened and throwing up returned on occasion, such was the pressure put on her body. The autonomy she now had felt hollow and false and all it took was loud chatter outside on the street to make her freeze and panic, even if logically she knew she would never hear Thomas, if he himself came or whoever he'd send in his place, that didn't stop her somatic reactions.

The day before she was due to fly out, the taxi going by way of her mother's house in Chelsea to collect Danny in advance, Evie had a breakdown similar to the first one since returning home when trying to pack, knowing if she didn’t arrive that Thomas would come for her. She had no idea what to put in her suitcase, the thought of bikinis and holiday dresses alien to the things now given time in her head. Evie had zero clue what if she eventually put inside, working through tears and moving like a zombie, before zipping it was sufficient or suitable; if questioned and told to describe the contents, she would not have been able to give an answer. Hefting the case up and placing it outside of her bedroom so she would not have to look at it, Evie exhaustively lay back down on her bed, pulling the too heavy for summer covers over herself. What made everything worse on top of being scared constantly was the always present ache she felt, not from her bottom, that had faded after some deeply unattractive bruising. No, this throbbing was found between her legs, deep inside herself and even as her hands travelled down her rounded belly and inside of her jeans and underwear to relieve it, the familiar disgust and self hatred washed over her as the hands she craved were not her own but instead a part of her, one she was sickened existed, wanted to see cool, blue, eyes above her as Thomas took her. Once she had shaken from several powerful orgasms, Evie cleaned herself up then cried; it was all she ever did any more when she wasn't asleep, always waking from a mixture of nightmares and sex dreams.

Having swallowed two temazepam, Evie sat in the back of the executive saloon uber and considered taking a third pill, debating whether her anxiety was sharp enough to keep her awake or if would be irresponsible with Danny. Collecting him had been awkward, not from her brother as he was his usual cheerful self and happy to see her. Despite knowing she had had no choice in the matter shame had flooded her - at seven all he would have known was his sister hadn’t contacted him, with no ability to recognise the nuances in the actions of others nor understanding, even if it was in fact a lie, the reason that unlike their father on her trip abroad Evie had been unable to be in contact, the way her mother (unhappily and judgmentally) had. Her mum was distant, a swift kiss on her cheek and an arm pat, not even giving Evie a hug. Evie desperately wanted to cling to her and explain, beg her to look after her and keep her safe but she kept a stoic expression. Doctor Richards knew her husband’s front as truth, turning the philanthropy of others into profitable business, and Evie didn’t want to strip away everything her mother knew of her past and turn it poisonous.

Danny spent the two-hour flight to Palma excitedly telling Evie about what he had learned at school, his best friends and chattering away animatedly in a way only children managed. His demeanour so bright and happy that it helped clear Evie’s mind for a short period and distracted from what awaited her. The dread returned on the boat from the mainland, they had been collected by the same bodyguards who always escorted her and Danny, since Jeff had stopped being part of the Spanish crew her father kept around him. Evie had spent time initially wondering, then trying not to think about, whether her actions to join the other girls had resulted in any punishment for the man, unaware it had cost him his life.

”Danny,” Roper’s enthusiastic greeting carried across the air as they docked, the little boy eagerly getting off the boat and sprinting to Dicky who embraced him full of smiles and laughter, both too far away for Evie to overhear what was funny. She waved, squinting even with sunglasses and almost grimacing as the combination of bright sun and fighting against the medication had made her temples throb.

”Darling, how was your trip?” Evie had caught up to them and they walked towards the compound, her father dressed in chinos and a coral shirt. Danny, leading the way and hand clasped in his father’s, looked less like a boy on holiday and more one en-route to public school with his pale green button up shirt and trousers that matched his father’s in miniature. Evie complimented the family on holiday aesthetic, she had put on a cream coloured flowery bandeau dress, elasticated around the bust so her pale and freckled shoulders were exposed, desperate to portray someone who was relaxed on vacation not a victim filled with trepidation and unease.

“The flight was uneventful, dad,” Evie stopped herself touching her cheeks, concerned her smile looked as stretched across her face as it felt. 

Inside the crisp reception, air-con working in full force to keep the temperature entirely at odds with outside, Evie stiffened and instantly realised why. Drink in hand, condensation running down the side of the clear glass and over his long fingers, Thomas approached the trio. He was wearing a royal blue linen shirt rolled to the elbows and fully unbuttoned, black swimming shorts that were damp started on his hip bones, covering to above the knee. He already had a light tan across his forehead and nose, which made the blue of his eyes even more prominent and a smattering of freckles she hadn’t seen previously made two brushstroke marks across his face.

”Ah, Thomas. You’ve met Danny, back when he visited at Christmas but this is my daughter, Evelyn - Evie.”

Evie stood mortified, initially from pure shock before the indignity moved into the familiar home it shared with this human. She had known Thomas would be around but his completely at-ease greeting, before paying attention to her brother alone did...something to her. Finally chatted out, the party having moved outside and sought refuge from the sun under the large umbrella, with Danny animatedly talked to Dicky.

”Evelyn,” Thomas played with the name on his tongue and the familiar pattern of obedience washed over the girl as she fought against it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally cry like this, where if i go too much I throw up. it's actually the worst. Made even worse when i proper chuck up, like for real rather than frothy saliva (sexy, non?) as my bladder then lets go like I'm a 90yr old nana. I get vomit drunk once a year maybe because I figured out my limit years back as who can handle that on top of being sick and drunk and spinny. But when I have a flu, if I'm ill too i then have to get in the damn shower. Bodies are pieces of crappp.


	16. This Cannot Happen Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was writing Loki and these guys mithered me til they got to play instead.

Evie didn’t say anything to her former captor, as hard as it was, and instead pushed her chair back with a scrape and after slipping her sandals off she walked over to the large pool barefoot, sitting by the edge and dangling her feet in the water. The refracted light, turning the lower part of her legs into an odd shape, gave her something to concentrate on and Evie cursed herself for not going to the other end as she had ended up with her back to Thomas. She couldn’t move now, it would look strange and she pretended to herself it meant scoring a point against her opponent, that her emotions weren’t so obvious after all, even if he had been able to wring out everything from her over the months she spent trapped with him.

Thomas observed Evie, sipping his drink nonchalantly as his employer and the man’s son joked, he himself laughing and smiling at relevant parts and appearing the picture of holiday calm. That was the difference between them, this among many others; Thomas could hide his thoughts so they remained purely internal, the girl’s emotions however manifested into her actions and mannerisms. If her shoulders were presently any more tense she would look comical and as it was, the only reason Roper had yet to notice something was not quite right about her was his tunnel vision interest in Danny. A man in Richard Onslow Roper’s position did not reach the heights he did without predatory instincts and sooner or later on this trip, in fact as soon as he paid any measure of attention to his daughter, he would realise there was something that didn’t add up about Evie’s behaviour. There would be no reason to suspect Thomas of any involvement but if Dicky dug expertly enough, and he would with little effort, Thomas believed it would not take much for the truth to come spilling out of the girl.

With water dripping down her legs, leaving droplets along the warm concrete beside the damp footprints she was making, Evie approached the table again with her face fighting itself between grimace and friendliness, eyes resolutely not on Thomas but facing her father and brother.

”I’m going to unpack and get a quick nap before dinner, there’s been a bunch of traffic diversions lately so I had to get up really early,” Evie lied and gave what she hoped was a convincing yawn. Truthfully she _was_ exhausted but not exactly sleepy, having spent far longer playing at normal today than she had in a long time. Before acting normal had become a mask to her.

”Evie, aren’t you going to go down to the sea with me?” Danny complained, a childish tone slipping out of the more common well behaved voice they taught at Dragon pre-prep. Few hard rules but much in the way of expectation, Evie remembered from her time at Lymans’, as it had been named when she’d attended.

”Why don’t you go with dad today, I’ll take you tomorrow,” Evie walked up behind Danny who was looking up at her, nerves stretched like a rubber band threatening to snap at being in such close proximity to Thomas, and ruffled her brother’s hair affectionately.

Inside of the bedroom she always used when staying, decorated impersonally and one of the many additional rooms, Evie sat on the bed. Danny had his own room, one fashioned to his tastes and with toys and games, trinkets and the like that were kept even in his absence. Taking deep breaths to center herself, Evie didn’t open her closed eyes when a knock startled her and instead called out “Danny, let me rest please. I’ll play with you later but I don’t feel well.” What Evie hadn’t paid attention to was the fact the knock came from a much taller body than the one occupied by her younger brother. When Thomas stepped into the room, still not properly dressed, Evie’s eyes flew open in shock and her fear took visceral form as she dropped to her knees on the ground and grabbed at the waste paper basket beside the bed and vomited inside.

Thomas waited until Evie was finished then took the small bin from her grasp and walked into the en-suite, dumping the content into the toilet and flushing then rinsing the container out in the sink. He placed it back where Evie had taken it from and helped her up, leading the girl toward the bathroom. There had not been any immediate  necessity to have her and her father in the same space, it would not have been the first trip she had missed, he had found out in his meticulous research; there was one as a teenager when she had been ill with the flu and at eighteen a girls holiday took precedence over a trip to see her father. He could have insisted she had stayed behind instead of commanding she attend the trip, he had spent enough time in her company to know her frailty and lack of talent for lying and subterfuge. So why exactly had he arranged this, Thomas chastised himself as his traitorous cock twitched and answered his question.

Brushing the horrible taste away Evie then gargled delicately, afraid to put too much pressure on her poor throat in case it revolted against her again. Splashing cool water on her face, she tried to fight against the growing horror building inside of her and a desire to lock the door and never step out of this safe little room. Trained so well to Thomas’ schedule though, Evie in reality dared not be more than a few minutes.

”This cannot happen again,” Thomas admonished Evie when she stepped out.

”I don’t know what you expect of me,” her crumpled face answered, as she pressed her back against the now shut bathroom door.

”Your father _will_ notice your peculiar behaviour if you don’t find a way to get a hold of yourself.”

”So what if he does,” Evie said petulantly and Thomas closed the distance between the two, leaning over her and resting his arm on the door, the heat of his bare chest noticeable to Evie.

”Then, Evie, he will kill me for my actions and you for your betrayal, as I have made clear on numerous occasions,” Thomas breathed heavily and placed the arm not above her beside her torso, caging her like prey.

“I didn’t want to come!” Evie whispered urgently.

”Nevertheless, you are here now,” Thomas brushed his lips against Evie’s ear and her breath hitched.

”And I don’t know what you want me to do. You locked me up, you...you did far worse, I can’t just have a happy vacation and pretend you didn’t.”

Moving back slightly so he could study her face, Thomas looked into the familiar dirty green eyes, always so wide in his company. “Your mother believes you were in Mumbai, pretend to Roper that you were unwell on the trip. You’ll be able to excuse yourself more frequently without question. Can you do that for me?” His tone took a kindness and Evie nodded in reply.

Unexpectly, a surprise to himself as much as to Evie, Thomas’ lips crashed against hers. Monitoring her as he had with the cameras, he had been privy to her most intimate moments. Watching, when she thought herself alone, how she would touch herself and mewl; the first time hearing her moan his name quietly, so hushed that were it not for the state of the art equipment it would have been missed, he’d come without warning in his own hand, touching himself whenever he witnessed her doing so as a poor substitute for being inside her. 

Insistent tongue playing against hers and sucking it deep in his mouth as she writhed against him, his hips pushing against her core. Withdrawing, Thomas slowly kissed Evie, teasing her lips with open mouthed exchanges and relishing in the softness of the girl against him, from her pillowy lips to her overall frame and the way the hardness of his body sunk against her willing one.

“This cannot happen again,” he repeated the earlier phrase, voice thick with lust, and stepped back, exiting the room and leaving Evie confused if he meant kissing her or her visible distress when around her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knew there wouldn’t be smut on this one because I wrote it but OMG WHY WHERE IS MY SMUT. Next chapter, I promise.


	17. Bad Decisions Feel Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back. *wave* I've not been away from my other stories, but yeah this one has had an almost 8w break. If you read it when I initially posted it you'll see the first half is familiar. It's had some changes and many edits and the later part is all new. ~~In truth I don't even know if this will go out today, Dec 12~~  
>  Please know I know be pimping this that I got Wed PM in all my stories [my new tattoo of a Gerda Wegener artwork](https://instagram.com/p/Bcp9-nUgshW)

Confinement was her life now, Evie thought. This prison brighter than England, blazing sun to mask the unhappiness and a pleasant view of the sea but it made little difference. Simply walking to the bed was monumental but she did it and sunk her face into the pillow, the feathers adapting in shape to support her face and cocooning her ears from the everyday sounds around her. Evie slept, dreamless this time and woke up to a setting sun on the horizon. Showering and blow drying her hair, not for vanity but to delay leaving, she had eventually used up every excuse for staying in the room; putting on a black, cotton halterneck dress that went down to her feet Evie went to join her brother and father. And Thomas.

"We thought we'd have to send Danny out on a search party for you," Roper called jovially after Evie found them at the same table she had walked from earlier, all as they'd been left, an abandoned tableaux until her return. Thomas was dressed differently wearing a steel grey suit, the jacket of which hung on the chair, and his white button doe was pristinely pressed. He smiled up at her in the same way as when introduced to a stranger at a party; friendly, but indifferent.

”I needed the sleep, I’ve not been feeling very well since India,” Evie explained vaguely, testing the lie Thomas had given her. 

“Touch of Delhi belly?” He asked her, the colonialism in the question unpleasant to her.

”I think so, it will pass but I might not be able to stay with with Danny as much as normal,” Evie was actually very hungry and the spread laid out was a gorgeous selection of meats and cheeses with an additional handful of warmer side dishes but she filled her plate only part way to play to the upset stomach story.

”Marta can help out,” her father said with a dismissive wave, referencing the head housekeeper he’d employed for as long as Evie remembered, who had been tasked with entertaining her as a child when her father was between girlfriends.

Evie knew she couldn’t run off again once they'd finished eating, it wouldn’t be fair to Danny and she didn’t want to seem ill to the point that her father had a doctor brought out, a physician who would find her physical self fine but might pick up that emotionally she was a wreck. Instead she took Danny indoors, glad to be away from the two terrible men in her life and played with him before putting him to bed, the boy insisting on two bedtime stories and a song before his eyes grew too heavy to demand more. 

The house was silent as she quietly stepped out of Danny’s bedroom, careful to not rouse the sleeping boy. Her father didn’t usually inform her of his comings and goings and the relief of an empty house, except the always present bodyguards with their guns who patrolled the grounds, lifted the atmosphere for her the way pressure eased after a storm. There wasn’t a need to fib or pretend, she had some room to just be whatever she needed to be for herself.

* * *

Thomas slipped inside Evie’s bedroom, light on his smart shoe covered feet in a bid to not make any noise and wake the resting girl. She looked at peace, Evie always did asleep he remembered and he wanted an innocent glance to momentarily cleanse his soul of its suffocating bad deeds, if for a brief time. The investment meeting had not gone as planned, Dicky had bristled against the pomposity displayed by their Armenian guests and resented their disrespect. Thomas had remained silent, full in the knowledge that attempts to calm his employer, and thus seeming to undermine him, would be unwise. They would require a different group to finance the upcoming Telesca operation, the gentlemen from tonight now permanently indisposed and Thomas had gained a sore jaw and dark stain on his shirt cuff, a visual representation of the ugliness of his work marring the perfect exterior the world was invited to observe. The disposal did not fall to him, too high on the totem pole he could slip away and leave the grunt work to the pilot fish. Roper, still soaring from the violence though he had not gotten his own hands dirty, bought himself company for the night upon returning to the hotel that would be of no use to their guests - girlfriends were invited to the compound, overnight company was not. Thomas made a show of selecting his own playmate, toying with the idea of taking the tall, buxom, redhead and fucking Evie out of his mind with an imperfect copy but as soon as the older man had led his brunette to one of the empty suites, Thomas paid for a service he did not intend on benefiting from and left.

Hovering now, this Lucifer seeking warmth from the glacial hell of his existence, Thomas ignored his imploring mind to leave and reached out. It roared at him to exit, that he had watched her. The deal struck with himself was that he would do nothing more than observe and not further interfere with Evelyn, to not allow his life to taint hers, yet just as quickly as had he made this vow he was turning his back upon it.

Evie opened her eyes, blinking with sleep and trying to locate what had disturbed her and focusing on Thomas' large frame over her, she made a strangled noise of terror. Thomas withdrew his hand, her fear disgusting to him - not because she was scared but because he was the cause, his very touch poison. To save her life, he had insisted throughout his evil acts but the contorted grimace from Evie stripped him bare.

”I’m not here to hurt you,” he broke the silence in contrition, apologising almost and knowing there was no penitence sufficient for the wider harm. Evie didn’t respond, instead she did the thing she did more than anything and burst into tears - again - trying to keep her sobs low, afraid of what Thomas would do to quieten her if her father had returned with him. “I’ll go,” Thomas looked in confusion when the girl cried harder. Thomas, self assured and always five steps ahead stiffened, stuck on the spot and awash with this foreign feeling of uncertainty. He lowered himself on the bed in a seating position, Evie trembling before him, and completed the action which had woken her by cupping her cheek. “It was to keep you alive,” he rasped and Evie’s weeping intensified. Freezing as he pulled her into his embrace but relaxing infinitesimally at first then melting into him, Thomas aware because his every nerve ending was attuned to her, stroking the girl from the back of the neck and moving down her shoulders.

Thomas was her jailer, brief lover and the man of her nightmares but he was also the only other being who knew what what she had suffered through, if by virtue of being the person to blame for it all. Evie could be herself, even if this self wept a lot, it was less restrictive than who she had to be to everyone else. From her family to the delivery people the last fortnight who had arrived holding bags of food, it had required the swallowing her emotions. With this man there was no need for pretence. Someone else might have enough pride to not grip against him tightly but Evie’s pride had been picked clean, she had no concept of it since the torture with the trunk. And she was glad for it, because pride would have kept her from seeking comfort from the only source still qualified to give it to her, despite their time away from each other.

Breaking their embrace to look at Evie’s sad expression, Thomas pressed his cooler forehead to her warmer skin, heated from sleep. Breathing in tandem with Evie, his fingers returning to her neck and loosening the muscles, intimate but chaste. A loud cry separated them, Thomas on instant alert and a startled Evie glanced around.

”It’s Danny, he does this sometimes on the first few nights away from home,” Evie said with realisation as she got up in a hurry, walking quickly out and down the corridor to her brother’s room. Roper's own bedroom the other side of the house and Thomas', well Evie had no idea where he was based.

Thomas followed once she was gone, spying outside of the youngest Roper’s room as Evie soothed the boy, speaking softly to him and singing, somewhat flatly not that it seemed to bother Danny who found comfort in his sister’s kindness. The scene transporting him twenty-years in the past watching Davina, his then girlfriend, taking care of her upset brother Stephen after another of their drunken stepfather’s explosions.

Evie jumped in surprise to find Thomas blocking her exit once Danny was asleep, clutching the stuffed bear that he refused to hold if Roper was in the vicinity, wanting to appear more grown-up for their dad. She raised her finger to her lips, indicating for Thomas to remain quiet so as not to disturb Danny and returned to her bedroom, Thomas shutting the door behind him.

”Would you please leave?” Evie sighed, a comfort though he was he was also her tormentor and her nerves were at breaking point. Surprisingly, and with no argument, Thomas did.

She pulled the door, regretting her request as soon as he complied. Wanting to undo it, not wishing to be alone with her fears and impulsively Evie pushed it open to find Thomas still on the other side. Waiting.

He closed the space between them and kissed her, hands reaching under her clothing and cupping her right breast, feeling the eager nipple rise under his thumb. Taking a deep breath, inhaling her scent which had been missing from his life and bed for weeks Thomas paused, knowing he should stop. Knowing he would not.

”Take off your clothes for me,” Thomas stepped backward, mimicking what he had asked of Evie the first night he took her. He slid his jacket off and draped it on the back of the wooden, straight backed chair in the corner before settling himself down to watch her.

Evie’s heart hammered in her chest, she could tell him to go. It was perverse enough the way she touched herself to the memories of him but this was a step too far, she was at the precipice of a terrible idea, one that would hurt her in the long run and she should turn back. But she wasn’t going to, Evie knew deep down that as troubling as what she was consenting to was that she wanted to go ahead with it. That she wanted him inside of her again. 

The air was warm but when she pulled her vest upwards, with no bra worn underneath, as Thomas was already aware from his earlier fondling, her nipples were stiff. She watched her terrible lover from underneath her eyelashes, feeling too raw to look him dead on and stepped out of both the shorts and knickers in a single move.

”Come here,” Thomas commanded, face impassive and when Evie stood before him he pulled her into his lap so she straddled him. Her body had filled out in the weeks away from him and the miserly rations he had provided and he grabbed handfuls of the soft flesh across her back, her waist, her hips, fully relishing in the twitches from Evie as he balanced between pleasure and pain for her. “I can already feel you making a mess of yourself on my trousers, Evie,” Thomas chuckled darkly and Evie felt her cheeks warm.

Was she supposed to apologise? She didn’t know. Evie didn’t think so, he was the one who had made her sit on him naked but she was so inexperienced compared to him...the rest of the sentence and train of thought flew from her mind when Thomas brushed the pad of his thumb across her exposed pearl, the position she sat in, with her legs wide open, giving him unemcumbered access. It was replaced by a base urgency that verbalised itself as a needy whine.

”Patience little girl,” Thomas chastised when Evie bucked her hips forward, desperate for further friction. “You come when I allow you to and why would I want you to leave any further stains on me so soon after the first with that slick cunt of yours.”

“Please daddy,” she begged against his ear, the honorific used not to curry favour but from a genuine desire to use it. Thomas growled, clasping Evie’s bottom and dragging her forward, the added pressure giving her exactly what she required and Evie trembled above him, muscles tightening and releasing.

”Do you feel how you spasm when I’ve done nothing beyond press against your clit,” Thomas brought his hand upward and smeared her juices across her lips before tasting her, tongue running across the seam of her mouth and leaving his own saliva there to mark her. “You’re delicious.”

Tapping the sides of her legs, Evie recognised it as a sign for her to stand and she did, purposely pressing her breasts in front of Thomas’ face as she swung a leg around to aid getting off without anything to hold onto. 

“You did that on purpose,” he joined her up and pressed his clothed body to her naked one from behind, hand wrapping her long auburn hair leaving her neck exposed to him and bit, holding her in place.

”Yes,” Evie agreed, she was less experienced than Thomas but not a complete novice and it had felt good doing something that caused his breath to hitch.

”Was it wise to tease your daddy?” Thomas’ tone was positively devilish. “Instead of making you come again, I think I’ll just fuck you now. If you’re a very good slut I’ll let you come with me buried in you. Maybe.”

He twisted her body and threw her on the bed where Evie tried to catch herself but mostly managed to sprawl on her back, which was perfect for what Thomas intended. He unzipped his light, woollen pants and taking the condom he’d slipped out of his jacket and onto his trouser pocket earlier, rolled it over his hard prick. It was Evie’s turn to struggle to breathe evenly as Thomas entered her, her knees pulled up toward her chest to allow him as deep as he could go. She rocked against his slamming hips, noises escaping her with every one of his pushes and her skin felt as if it were on fire. The way his clothing rubbed over her bare flesh, almost uncomfortable to her but she didn’t care, she needed this, needed _him_  in the physical sense yes but also to chase all the horrible and ugly feelings away. She also desperately wished to come but Thomas had told her he controlled her orgasms.

”Daddy, I’m...-I can’t hold on,” she breathed out. She had no knowledge of how to stop an orgasm and if he said no she wouldn’t be able to heed him.

”Go ahead, let me feel your come run out of you and coat my balls, little girl,” Evie stifled the screams that followed on his shoulder and when she was done Thomas pushed her knees wider and fucked her harder, fingertips holding tight enough to bruise until he too was spent. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frustrating, I just edited out ‘high class’ from company in the hotel part. It goes to show, things are sometimes ingrained in how society has led us to think. There’s no hierarchy of sex work, it’s an incredibly offensive line, and in my 97541 edits I didn’t catch it once until I woke up this morning and the line rang out in my head followed by an oh shit. Anyway I’m pointing it out rather than just an edit to go look, I know things are a process and we all sometimes slip in being better people.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still totally pimping [my ~~new~~ over a week old tattoo of a Gerda Wegener artwork](https://instagram.com/p/Bcp9-nUgshW). It was a 3.5h sitting and OK I didn't do it without chemical assistance still it hurt like hell and my usual limit is 1.5h but the artist is usually based in Barcelona.

Thomas played with Evie's long hair, black in the darkness, its copper and auburn tones hidden by the lack of light. She was curled around him, soft, ample thigh over his own slimmer, stronger legs. Both utterly sated, Evie to the point where she had begged him to stop, too sensitive to bear anything further; once he had come, Thomas had replaced his softening cock with three curved fingers, and his mouth, tearing further orgasms from her.

Evie lay in the pretence of a normal situation as long as she could, wanting to sleep but not wanting to wake up alone. Finally, once the last of the afterglow that dulled her anxiety had dissipated she shifted, face serious but vulnerable and stared at Thomas.

"What now?" her voice sounded smaller than she had wanted it to and Thomas untangled himself from her so his arms were free.

Placing thumb and forefinger on her chin he spoke with certainty, "now, you are mine."

Evie wanted to question him, in some ways to scoff and tell him absolutely not, after what he had done she would not. That this was a mistake and that she would be going home after this farce of a holiday and would try to piece her life back together. Somehow. None of the words came out, they were smothered by the warm glow of what he had said. Because he was right, she was. Things had irrevocably changed and the only way she could feel anything beyond despair was with him.

Evie bent forward, pressing her lips to his, Thomas’ hands moving with her and releasing, his digits circling her throat delicately but leaving no doubt at his power and Evie sighed at the gentle pressure. That was enough of a cue for Thomas who effortlessly turned the girl so she was on her back and nudged her knees apart. His free hand snaked up her inner thigh and parted the girl’s lips, fingers returning inside of Evie. Arms either side of her Thomas could see all of Evie as she lay open to him, he was on bent knees on the mattress with one hand still closed around her neck as the fingers busy with her cunt stimulated the slick walls at a languid pace. Enough to cause beathy moans but not aggravate the sore muscles that he had previously stretched with fingers and cock. Thomas wanted to sheath himself in her but that would have to wait until he was able to harden, however, the glazed expression of bliss on her expressive face was almost as good.

Evie had no idea how to describe what was happening, Thomas’ pace and gentleness below her waist could only be equated to how she had made love previously. Yet him holding her throat, not firm to the point she struggled for breath but solid and taut left Evie certain could not have wriggled free. She wanted nothing of the sort, the contrast of both actions fulfilling everything she wanted and the orgasm built up slowly, cresting not as the earlier ones from his fucking but a gentle wave that washed over her and made her tremble. When she had stilled Thomas removed both of his hands, licking the one that was glossy and lay back down beside her, pulling the light covers over their naked forms.

It was dawn when Thomas shook her awake.

”I need to get going, it’ll be a few hours before your father returns but I don’t intend on taking the risk.”

”Where’s your room?” Evie asked tiredly.

”I don't have one, I’m in the fisherman’s cottage at the end of the estate,” Thomas appreciated the privacy, the house too oppressive for him. Constantly under watch, even with Dicky’s warranted trust in him.

”Show me?” a yawn came out as Thomas stood, dressing himself.

”Roper can’t find out I’ve sequestered his daughter to the edge of the property in secret,” Thomas looked backward at Evie as he buttoned the cuffs of his shirt. 

“You don’t think he’d find you a suitable... companion for me?” Evie didn’t know what word to use.

”I don’t know. I’m older than you, this has to be dealt with carefully,” because if it wasn’t, the last thing he would see would be Frisky’s gun, Thomas was certain. While Dicky showed considerably less interest in the girl than he did Danny, his sense of dominance over everyone around him would without a doubt apply over whom his daughter was sleeping with.

”What’s that?” Evie indicated to the mark on the end of his sleeve. She had sat up, tugging the bedsheet over her chest for modesty, not that Thomas hadn’t already seen every inch of her naked body but he was fully dressed and she felt awkward.

”Blood,” he answered truthfully.

With that one word the pretence of a somewhat normal situation crumbled away and Evie’s stomach lurched. Standard people did not have blood on their clothes, outside of medical professionals. As Thomas had seen all of her body, she too had done the same to his and there had been no cuts, whoever’s blood that was it didn’t belong to him. But this was his life, and her dad’s, and she had allowed herself to push it to the back of her mind where it now exploded forward and with it she found herself scrambling upward and sprinting to the bathroom, the shock once more taking form viscerally. 

”This is what I do,” Thomas waited until she was done and had returned to the bed, slipping on a tshirt over herself, “there isn’t one without the other.”

”That isn’t fair,” she naively said, her age shining through so obviously that Thomas wanted to smile but kept his face impassive in order to not offend her.

“It’s who I am.”

”Did you kill the person? Were they..- were they bad?”

”Do you want me to tell you and does it make it any better if they were?”

”I don’t know. Maybe.”

“No, it wouldn’t Evie.”

”This is what you do,” she echoed his words miserably. 

He was right, there wasn’t a level where it made what he did OK. Saint or sinner, nobody deserved to be killed and it sickened her to think another human being’s blood stained the man she had bedded but she didn’t want to give him up and she knew with complete certainty that even in her disgust she wasn’t going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, I hope you’ve had a lovely holiday everyone. And if you didn’t, well me either but it’s done/almost done depending on your time zone.


	19. Trust Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed I lost a bookmark on 'Just' this week after updating, which in no way made me feel more fragile about the fact that I think my 4 offerings of 2k18 so far haven't been as strong as previous stuff and I don't know where I'm going wrong (I suspect it is because I am writing even when I don't feel inspired but when I waited for inspiration it meant Just was left with nothing for over a month! Cannot win). But I’m really quite happy with this chapter so yay.
> 
> Isn't nice that your dear writer has no chill?

“Dans,” Dicky’s voice rang up the circular staircase that he was climbing, where the main family’s bedrooms were within the compound, along with a couple of spare rooms, including the one Evie was occupying.

Evie was in that awake but not completely state, where your brain is too foggy to think very clearly but your body relishes the sensations of the soft pillow under your neck and the way the expensive, high thread cotton blankets rests on cool skin. She was also deliciously achy and despite her best judgement found herself feeling very much the way a girl her age and with her limited experience might at having a new boyfriend: smitten. She didn't think she would use the B word out loud to Thomas, he might find it and her too childish for thinking it, but whatever term was correct, she was his.

"What have you got there?" Roper's clear voice rang out, not only was he naturally loud the way men of means and power frequently are but the acoustics of the space made it seem as if he were in the room with Evie, who had climbed out of bed and was shrugging on the silky robe by her bed, a russet orange with pink lilies embroidered on the back, around her shoulders. She slid the door open, her hands having finished tying off the knot of the dressing gown and saw her rumpled brother, his hair in disarray which looked adorable coupled with the dinosaur pyjamas. In his hand, the unoccupied right as the left sleepily rubbed at his face, he held the bear she had tucked him with the previous night.

"Rupert," Danny shyly replied.

"Well put it away and get dressed, I have the whole morning free sleepyhead," Roper hadn't said anything negative about the teddy and even his tone wasn’t in any way dour but his praise, the thing both his children so deeply craved and which had always come more sparingly Evie's way, was evident in its absence. When Danny had returned to his room, Roper turned to his daughter, “you’re looking less peaky.”

”I feel a lot better. But I’ll probably stay behind if you and Dan are off out?”

”I’m taking him fishing, but meet us for lunch at Jorge’s?” Evie nodded, not wanting to be so close to him but feeling choiceless in the matter. 

The seven year old stepped out, gone was the normal looking kid and in his place stood the well dressed mini-adult, except for the goofy smile which eclipsed his face when the dogs, which had probably been taken out for a walk judging by their damp and sandy looking paws and were just now back, scampered up the stairs themselves and excitedly demanded attention. ”Leave the beasts,” Dicky teased his youngest. “You and I have fish to catch, my boy!” marching forward the younger, innocent, Roper followed. 

Showered, changed and having eaten a large breakfast of fruits and pastries to make up for the pitiful morsels consumed the previous day now she was far from her father’s watchful eyes, Evie had put on a mint green two-piece and gotten into the pool, hair pinned up and off her neck and shoulders. Factor fifty slathered everywhere in advance to avoid burning her pale skin, Evie was resting on the shallower end with her arms open behind her and head resting on the concrete, enjoying the warmth of the sun from above and below where she touched the ground before the too strong mid morning rays forced someone with her complexion inside. Despite the big sunglasses on her face and her shut eyes the change in light levels, even through her eyelids, caused Evie to open them, moving her forearm to block the light that was still shinning in her eyeline. Seeing Thomas, Evie twisted in the water, lifting her feet off the bottom so she could do it in one move as if she were a mermaid.

”Very impressive,” he said from above her and she noted he was as impeccably dressed as always; today in a navy button down and smart, grey trousers, the thatching on the fabric from the threads giving an imperceptibly light and elegant sheen with expensive Italian leather soled shoes on his feet. He too may as well have been Richard Onslow Roper Jr., he certainly looked the part. His own eyes were hidden by sunglasses.

”You spend enough time in this pool alone and you learn to entertain yourself. You should see how long I can hold my breath,” Evie remarked.

Bending down and balancing on the balls of his feet, supported by strong, runner’s thighs, Thomas removed and folded the Ray Bans and clasped then in one palm, the fingers on his other hand dipping into the water lazily. “You’ll have to show your daddy that talent of yours when I push you underwater to suck my cock, little girl,” his voice low that even if anyone had stood near them, though no one was, they couldn’t possibly have heard. As far as any casual observer would be aware, Thomas Pine was having a casual and brief conversation with his employer’s daughter.

Evie, taken aback by the abrupt change and sudden amped carnality could think of nothing to say to that, and instead immersed herself so everything above the surface disappeared with a whoosh. Rising upward, not having spent more than a few seconds down, Evie rubbed the water away so she could see and when her vision cleared she watched Thomas as he walked away from the pool. The suntan lotion which she had placed with her towel on a lounger had been moved to the edge. Dutifully, Evie reapplied.

Her father, Danny and the Langbourne’s - adults and children - were already in situ when Evie entered the restaurant with Tabby and Frisky occupying and facing seats at the table nearest the exit. Taking a deep breath and using the scent of the hanging fresh flowers to centre herself, Evie pasted a smile, adjusted her white shift dress, and approached the group. She greeted Caro and Sandy with a kiss on the cheek each and took one of two empty seats left beside Danny. Instead of sitting with the giggling fraternal Langbourne twins and their older brother who was the same age as Danny, he had picked being beside their father. 

Evie was animatedly listening to Danny tell the story of that morning’s fishing excursion as her father and Sandy quietly discussed business and Caro wrangled her boys and girl when a familiar rich voice rang out, “Jorge!” a grinning Thomas clasped the owner’s palm in his.

”Mr Pine, it is good to see you,” the older man returned the smile and the two shared a few minutes of conversation. Jorge telling Thomas how his daughter, whom the proprietor had joked over the years Thomas should escort on a date, would be sad to have missed him, but the newly married Mrs Santanos, née Cortes, was finding being pregnant and the ensuing morning sickness difficult.

”Give her my best and many congratulations,” Thomas stepped away and after extending his own greeting to Sandy and Caro and undoing the button of the suit jacket he hadn’t been wearing that morning with forefinger and thumb, he languidly took the empty chair beside Evie.

Lunch, for Evie, was hell. All she wished to do was talk to and face Thomas, to ignore everyone else, even her own brother which made her feel desperately guilty, but it was as if she were a plant yearning for the sun. However, fear of the sharp eyed Roper kept Evie from being so obvious. She felt the same could not be said for Thomas, who whilst not in any way inappropriate - well, inappropriate for those who weren’t aware he had fucked her the night before, for Evie no such barrier existed in private - certainly paid more attention and involved the stressed girl in further conversation than he previously had, using Danny as a buffer to aid chat seemingly naturally.

She has been grateful when the trio of men, plus Tabby, had taken one of the speedboats, leaving Evie, Caro and the kids along with Frisky to drive the other. Hair whipping in the wind, Evie closed her eyes and turned away from the other boat, needing the headspace that was impossible when Thomas was anywhere near her.

”Sandy has set up dinner with Hamza Aktan, an associate of Mr Barghati. He’s interested in Telesca and after the unfortunate mishap with the Armenian’s, the timing is perfect,” Dicky wouldn’t have expected anything less, he had worked hard for many years to ensure that everything did in fact always work in his favour. His racism, though he would not have called it that but simple good sense, and personal preference would be to stop dealing with the Middle East entirely, in truth, but whilst the West were the ones with the equipment they were short of the wealth to be found in Africa and Asia. 

“How involved do you want me to be?” Pine had taken the helm, at Roper’s behest though the latter was always evidently the man in charge, with Omar Barghati.

”Be your naturally charming self,” Roper chuckled then turned more serious, “but let him lead it and feel as if everything happening is his decision,” Thomas nodded.

”Always manipulating someone, eh Dicky,” Sandy joked with his old friend.

“Yes,” Roper agreed, “usually you Sandy,” and both men chuckled, Thomas naturally joining in.

”You seemed very charmed by young Evie,” Sandy, who had drunk a considerable amount of the Albillo wine, had zeroed in on another target.

In that moment, the years of casual friendship with the man evaporated for Thomas and he wished nothing more than to elbow the well bred asshole in the face, but he kept his expression the same, “she seems a very smart woman, we had a few things in common.”

”Pine, what would a council house thug like you have in common with my public school reared daughter?” Dicky was purposefully antagonising, his face unreadable even to Thomas who had spent years studying it. Sandy became watchful, the side of him which loved chaos, or it would not be involved in a criminal life, and a change from the dullness of things when he was in England excited at what might occur, despite bearing no particular ill will toward Thomas.

The heavy atmosphere shattered like crystal when Roper laughed, indicating it was all in jest. At least, that’s the direction he had chosen to take it; the frightening thing with men like him is that he could have so easily tipped the other way, “so, you like her, do you?”

”Would that be a problem?” Thomas kept his demeanour casual, they were merely friends having a conversation. Inside was a different matter, his eyes studied his boss, mindful that the man’s mood could still switch. Tabby was the only of them with a weapon but Roper only suspected this was an initial interest on his part, Thomas was certain he did not know anything further. That didn’t stop him from keeping his stance seemingly relaxed but taut, just in case.

A considered look came over Dicky, he frequently viewed Pine as himself twenty years prior - almost. By his mid-thirties Richard Onslow Roper had already been the running Jaguar Holdings, his predecessor having left feet first. Pine lacked some of his own brutality but that was why he made a superb second in command. “No, I suppose not,” Roper replied. They had reached shore and the speedboat slowed its engine.

Thomas needed a stiff drink after that conversation, his own nerves were shot. He had not predicted this outcome and when Sandy had baited him, Thomas had felt his carefully planned future ruse ebb away with no way to pull it back. If he had feigned disinterest there would have been no easy way to manipulate Roper into being pro the alternative, the truth, a very rough overview of it at least, had ultimately been the best choice. He wanted to clap Langbourne on the back before throttling him, the drunken man’s games had by pure chance played to his favour.

”I’m going for a nap,” Sandy muttered, the anticlimax of the situation and the wine giving him a headache and fouling his earlier good humour.

The gaggle women and children were heading inside and Thomas raised his voice, “Evie, hang on a minute.” The girl froze, completely thrown by him being so blatant in grabbing her attention. With a hand squeeze to Caro, who was leading the three kids, Evie turned with a faltering smile, trying very hard to not make it a grimace. “Would you like to come for a walk with me along the beach?”

Evie desperately tried to read Thomas’ face, but she could only see bland friendliness staring at her. Her father was only a handful of metres away, he could see everything clearly, what the hell was he playing at. She made none of this verbal, instead opting for the the equally emotionless, “yes, of course, that would be lovely.” 

He led her toward the edge of the property and away from the bustle, keeping himself a respectable distance from the girl and not placing his hands on her the way he wanted to, “I can see the outline of your underwear in that dress, by the time you walk back to the house you won’t be wearing any.”

It took all of Evie’s self control to not stop dead and gasp at him, she had no idea what kind of game he was playing, “where are we going?”

”For a walk, like I said.”

”But my dad?” Evie didn’t like the shrill note her voice had veered in, they were still too close for comfort.

”Just smile and walk as if you don’t have a care in the world, little girl. Trust me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will some kindly soul take Nana here under their wing for a Tumblr basics? It’s impossible, it seems, to get new visual content of Tom without it. What main accts should I follow? And I never understand how to comment dammit.
> 
> Edit - I know, everyone was expecting drama off Roper finding out about them. But like I said to Archy, I don’t think, based on the current circumstances and what he’s aware of, that he would mind. I’m not trying to cop out, but I sat with it and what I see happening and where I see them going, I don’t think it was a plot point I wanted to spend a lot of time on when there’s more interesting stuff afoot. And I’m not doing a 180• on how important Evie’s moral compass is to her, even if she is ‘smitten’. In the words of Thomas: trust me.


	20. Brat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy SMarch...let's celebrate with the worst snow in forever in England last week. D:
> 
> Re-watching the show I completely misremembered Sandy’s kids, there are no twin girls, there’s an older boy and probably fraternal twins boy and girl. Do we even care? No. But I’ve edited the previous chapter anyway.

Obeying Thomas came so naturally to Evie that it overrode the questions and based on what she knew, she suspected that he wouldn’t answer her before he was ready to anyway and made the decision not to question further an easy one. They walked quietly, her head was facing toward the crystalline water and the still warm breeze made her hair dance as if an invisible being were tugging her her strings. One apart from Thomas.

”Stop here” he said, once they’d walked two thirds of the length of the private beach.

She complied, head tilting to one side as her hand tamed the strands that were affecting her vision, “are we far enough away?”

”Not for me to fuck you in the open, unfortunately,” despite Roper’s consent, Thomas was not foolish and there might well be eyes on them. That the trust he had built was potentially on shaky foundation with Dicky was something he wouldn’t know for certain until it collapsed under him, making the only wise play to remain watchful.

He bent and unlaced his smart shoes, the leather soled Burberry Oxfords were rather unsuitable and potentially ruined by the damp sand that was found so close to the water’s edge. Falke socks were slipped off with thumb and forefinger before being pressed to the toe of his shoes and not caring about his suit, Thomas sat on the ground with his knees bent upwards, legs wide and arms resting on them, digging his long toes into the compacted sediment, deep in colour from the water it had taken in. Quite the change from his hotelier days but one learned to either dispense with sentimentality or place orders for duplicate items on anything which was not bespoke that was particularly favoured if your clothing might find itself soiled with another’s blood. However, it had become more infrequent over the past forty months, since his ascension to Number Two status, by-passing Number Three entirely much to the consternation and downright fury of of Major Lance Corkoran, who until then had been Roper's only confidante and was now mostly confined to London, his sexual orientation and hard drinking unwelcome to most of their clientele, like the Church the world of Crime was equally regressive. Sandy wasn't within the hierarchy, he worked for Roper as they all did, but his title and breeding gave him duties outside of the Corporation so his time was more fluid.

Evie dropped to her knees, bunching the dress a little in her fists to allow for better movement than the white shift naturally gave at its current length and it was resting mid-thigh when she was finished. Once down, she shifted onto her bottom to sit beside Thomas, twisting her own legs under her which caused the outfit to move higher, inadvertently giving Thomas quite the view.

”You’ll make me rethink what I just said if you keep flashing me,” Thomas kept his eyes trained on the horizon and his lips quirked when Evie attempted to drag the hemline. “Step in the water.”

”What? What do you mean?” 

“I want to watch you, little girl. Go.”

As soon as Evie felt as if she were on even ground with Thomas he did or said something that confused and wobbled her and this was no different. Back on her feet, Evie lifted her legs in turn to allow her to tug the elastic heel strap of her sandals off. Leaving footprints in the sand where the tide came in she walked until the water brushed at her dress, darkening the very edges. Evie’s back remained to Thomas, feeling foolish and having no idea why he’d wanted her to go into the water fully clothed. She had motioned to her zip once her shoes had been discarded but he had shook his head. He was outright bewildering, she didn't understand his motives and when a more forceful wave caught her by surprise Evie found herself soaked to the waist and very pissed off. That was it, his silly request was over and an annoyed Evie stalked out of the sea.

Thomas wanted to ruin that white, virginal dress. To strip himself first at the shore then join her and grab his beautiful girl and tear her clothing. To watch it sink in the waves and wash away as he fucked her, leaving her with nothing to go home in. If he allowed her to go at all, the pleasing thought tightening the front of his tailored trousers.

The drop in temperature did nothing to alleviate Evie’s mood, her skin goose pimpled from the breeze and the sun was noticeably lower on the horizon. The way the wet fabric clung to her and the dry sand clumped around her feet despite Evie trying to brush it off had made her furious and when she spoke it was clipped, ”I’m going to head back to the house.”

”No,” was all Thomas would say. He joined her standing and picked up his own shoes as Evie had done with her sandals.

His hand on the small of her back gave Evie no option but to follow and with Thomas wearing that same neutral expression she had grown used to seeing and loathing for weeks on end, they headed towards the property that hadn’t been visible until passing a sand dune. Modest, but not quite what she had imagined when hearing ‘fisherman’s cottage’. The outside walls were roughly skimmed render, the level of detail gone into this construction compared to her father’s large compound was world’s away, but she had expected a cross between a lighthouse and a ramshackle cabin, which seemed stupid in hindsight if Thomas was inhabiting the property, even if not long term. He banged his Oxfords together by the door before undoing the lock, Evie - not having done either with her shoes or feet - followed him inside. 

The interior was as impersonal as Evie’s own room and most of the main house - it was all a tepid mix of Spanish and English styles but lacking personality. From what she could tell by glancing around there was a single bedroom, the small kitchen housed a dining table with two chairs and the compact living room had a small, two-seater sofa. Pulling one of the dining chairs out she scraped it along the floor churlishly but the noise grated on her more than the satisfaction so she stopped. Sitting down was a mistake, her wet attire and underwear felt even chillier and more disgusting when sandwiched between her flesh and the oak chair. In further petulance, Evie dropped her sandals to the ground where they landed with a clatter.

Thomas, who had removed and hung up his jacket, observed Evie’s mild tantrum and her lack of manners in his space, his eyes surveying the scattered sand. He rolled his shirt sleeves up, taking them just under the elbow to allow for better movement. 

“Get in here,” he didn’t raise his voice, not simply because it was unnecessary in the space.

Evie, tongue pressing against the back of her teeth and wearing a pinched expression took to her feet and walking into Thomas’ bedroom she saw his face was completely closed off, not neutral but utterly blank and terrifying - something she had seen in her worst moments when held prisoner by him.

”Get over my knee,” he was sat on the edge of the bed, feet on the ground and Evie impassively placed her own knees on the mattress and climbed him; her arms and head touching the bed on the other side of his closed thighs. “How dare you show such poor manners,” Thomas gathered his fingers in Evie’s hair when she didn’t respond or acknowledge him, causing her to give a strangled cry at the burning against her scalp. “You might have grown up with everything you wanted from your daddy, you little brat, but I am your Daddy now and I will teach you how to be a good girl for me even if you have to learn by force,” Thomas yanked up the sodden skirt part of the garment and Evie wriggled in discomfort as the clammy fabric rested on her dry back. “What do you have to say for how you’ve treated my fucking home?”

At this moment in time Evie’s rage was overriding the submission she felt toward Thomas and the fear she still had around him, even in this compromising position, and despite knowing it was stupid, the eldest Roper daughter retorted, “this isn’t your home it’s a guest cottage, I’ve been to your house and I got to know it very well from when you kept me locked up. If anything, this is more an extension of what will one day be mine and I’m sure the cleaner vis-OW!”

Thomas had cut the sniping girl off with a forceful swing of his open hand and before she could persist spanked her over and over again his own hand warm and throbbing before he stopped, her damp skin making it sting as well as the heaviness of his strike, “are you quite done?” Evie was too shocked to reply having cried with each punishing slap, she had known it was going to happen but god she didn’t remember just how much it could hurt and he hadn't let her get away despite her initial attempts until it became easier to brace herself for the pain. Not satisfied with the lack of response, Thomas took the soft skin where Evie's thighs met her buttocks and squeezed hard, holding her forcibly and feeling the way he cupped part of her sensitive sex, fully aware this was agony not pleasure, “I asked you a question, my misbehaving little slut.”

”Yes! I’m sorry daddy, please,” Evie squirmed against his iron grip, her eyes blinking rapidly. Thomas released some of the pressure but left his hand where it was.

”Why have you been a little bitch, Evie? You know my only interest is you acting like one in heat with your cunt on display for me and begging me to fuck you,” Thomas had bent his body down to say that against the conch of her ear, his weight pushing on Evie from above. The change from stern to more honeyed tones and what Thomas was saying made Evie contract, her pulse jumping between her legs.

”You made me go in the water like an idiot,” Evie felt her temper flare and held it down, not wanting further aching reminders of her place.

”Did it not give you an ironclad excuse to wander toward the nearest property to dry off? That if anyone were watching us, it would make perfect sense that you were caught out by the tide and to head here ahead of returning to the house.”

Now Thomas had put it like that Evie could see a point, “you didn’t tell me.”

”Who am I?” Thomas turned his hand so he could hold all of Evie’s mound and the girl exhaled sharply.

”Daddy,” she hadn't noticed that her ass had lifted of its own volition so the front of her could rest closer against Thomas' palm, her body yearning for this kind of touch.

”I decide if you need to know something Evie, regardless if I share with you you’re expected to obey, yes?” Much the same way he had removed his socks earlier, those same digits held onto Evie’s knickers and made a pulling motion, bringing the fabric between her lips and causing friction on her clit.

Half moaning and half talking Evie told him yes again, her hips bobbing in time to Thomas’ little game of ‘tug’. She made a disgruntled grumble in the back of her throat when he stopped, followed by a start when both hands swiftly yanked her underwear down and past her knees, aiding him by kicking them off. As Thomas smeared her very obvious arousal over her pussy and the inside of her thighs, Evie buried her head in the bed, a whine leaving her. She needed him right now but when Evie tried to sit up she found he wouldn't let her, firmly keeping her in place until she begged him. Lifting her up, Thomas twisted his cock hungry whore and slammed her on his stiff prick, Evie having made quick work of his trousers at his instruction and releasing him from the fabric. She ground herself against Thomas, her bud rubbing along his coarse pubic hair as he pulled the zip at the of her shift down, the dress gathering at her waist. Roughly, Thomas hauled her bra up so it rested mid chest leaving her tits exposed until the left was taken in his mouth, teeth dragging against her nipple. Biting. Their frantic fucking was loud and messy, Evie's leg muscles burning as she bounced, Thomas' thick dick stretching her cunt and making it impossible to think. She was so desperate to keep orgasming that even as she felt him twitch and come, she kept sinking down, trying to get just one more before he softened under her, edged forward by Thomas' dark words and screaming her last release like a woman possessed.

True to his earlier word, when Evie walked back to her house with Thomas accompanying her - outfit dry and ironed to hide the beating it took from being fucked in it - she wasn't wearing either her bra or knickers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot, what plot.
> 
> I'm pimping my one shot [Respite](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12744273) from last year because it deserved more love and I’m shameless. It's a Loki/Nebula fuck sesh during the former's time under Thanos' "hospitality".


	21. An Official Outing on the Horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 6th of MARCH. Wtf! Sorry, I had no idea it had been so long.
> 
> Wank Ao3 ate a whole blurb about dream housing, poor distribution of wealth and a funeral during an edit because the formatting had gone weird. It was quite interesting and boring all at once.

It was never expected that Thomas would spend weeks on end within Roper's compound on the Balearic islands. Travelling often to Majorca, certainly at critical points, which lasted a few days, perhaps a week at a time, was common for him. Despite Jaguar Holdings not being the client but the facilitator, Roper’s force of will was such that he himself could easily arrange and find no argument from the client that they visit his location, though rarely his home. Dicky only travelled when he chose to, the life of a free man who could do as he wished without any bugger telling him how, as he put it. Dating Evie, however, had extended Thomas’ stays, he returned to London on a weekly basis and and had jetted to a couple of other destinations in the last five-weeks but the rest of his time was spent in Spain. Romance was an odd character trait for someone in Richard Roper’s profession to have but it had worked well in both Thomas’ favour now and in the past with Roper’s ex-girlfriends, in their case it had meant he did not have a wandering eye. Once he fell out of love though the girlfriends were promptly dismissed, usually over the phone and once via Corky. There was no in-between with Richard Onslow Roper, either you were in his circle, although there were levels to it in both fondness and knowledge, or you weren't.

Publicly behaving as if he didn’t know Evie as intimately, in personality - and more carnally for the first few weeks - not to mention in the other ways such as how her eyes looked when she felt genuine terror which he had compartmentalised away, as Thomas did was somewhat peculiar to him. Subterfuge was hardly unfamiliar to Pine, the only one who would might slip would be Evie, and were that the case he had already obtained falsified travel documents and had a plan in place for their escape in addition to the money and know-how to ensure they would never be found. Not even by Roper, because he would take her. No, the oddity in these lies came from how much the outcome mattered to him, how the shell of indifference formed after Sophie’s death had crumbled away from him so cleanly. That didn’t alter the fact that Thomas wished to have both, Evie and the life he had crafted for himself in this high-end world of crime. It was merely...unexpected.

Fear of what the truth would mean for Thomas still left Evie struggling to relax around her father when they were in a group, with her often placing herself as far as possible using her brother and lover as buffers, shields even. Better still if the Langbourne’s were around, she could almost feel normal. For intervals of ten whole seconds at a time. She believed that Thomas would take the blame, erase the reason for his actions and be the villain to save her, he probably had a lie prepared if not several, even though they hadn’t discussed it. Leaving Thomas, rather than the both of them, as an enemy and truly she was certain, convinced in ways that had taken Thomas so long to get her to believe what her father could be capable of, that what would happen next would be terrible for him and the idea of losing this man she loved sent panicked pangs through Evie’s heart. Oh but when she was with Thomas, when it was just the two of them, not only when Evie was pinned under him and he was making her shudder and doubt that her bones were still solid, but at other times. It was as if only they existed in the whole world and as the private jet landed on the runway, Evie smoothed a flyaway lock of hair and her stomach clenched not from the jolt of wheels on tarmac but of being with him again soon. From the small window she could see several cars, their little entourage required more than one vehicle, and standing beside one of them was Thomas whose eyes locked with hers before the movement around her indicated it was time to disembark and she broke their connection.

* * *

Danny had left early in the week, taken as a rare treat by Roper to the airport, their father ordinarily too busy and not entirely interested, which left Tabby to take them and until Evie was sixteen, Marta had come too. She’d preferred Tabby to Frisky, neither were warm but Frisky and his axe like hands just _looked_ scarier to her as a child. As an adult, if only just and not even of legal drinking age in America, Evie knew both were cut from the same cloth, one may look less intimidating but they were the same. Despite that she would be alone with just her dad on the return journey, even if there had been the opportunity to make her excuses she wouldn’t have done; Evie loved her kid brother too much to not join them. Aside from the two occasions she had not come to the Island at all, there had been only the one year when she had been seventeen and old enough to remain alone that she had begged to stay on, University was beginning in Autumn but her start-date was later than Danny's school. Promising to not get under her father's feet and that he didn't have to delay going away for work - by that age she had already been aware for several years that his affection toward her was considerably less than what he felt for Danny and her presence wouldn't make a difference to his plans in any meaningful way - Evie had voiced it anyway so it couldn't be used as an excuse, and it had been agreed. A summer romance with a local boy the reason, one she thought she loved, had lost her virginity to and had sobbed terribly for on the plane home and until the adventures of being a fresher took over. They had promised to text and email but neither did more than a couple of times, the distance and inexperience giving them nothing to talk about when the other person wasn't sharing their days and in their presence.

The XE sports saloon in corris grey smoothly handled the less than perfect road under it, even with the overly heavy and unnecessary grip of Frisky’s hands on the steering wheel. Its tinted windows were drawn up and the cool but silent aircon had Evie wishing she had picked something to wear over the pale pink cotton vest and denim cut-off shorts. Roper uncrossed his legs and slid the phone he had immersed himself with since Danny had left into his trouser pocket, cool blue eyes giving nothing away, “you and Thomas have been seeing quite a bit of each other,” it wasn’t a question but Evie answered yes anyway. “He makes you happy?” this was a question, because what would her own father know of her happiness, of course he would need her to tell him and Evie couldn’t help, as much of a surprise as it was to her, feeling hurt.

”It’s only been a month, I know he’s older but I do. A lot,” Evie toed the line between truth, she had no capacity to lie to her father this was also something she had come to realise, and keeping something back, not wanting to divulge what she held with such importance to anyone else. 

A thoughtful nod came from Dicky and they lapsed into silence as he pondered whether it would be a clever idea, though he only ever had clever ideas. After Pine had shown an interest in Evie he had consented, curious, and instructing his closest security to be extra watchful, not only of how the man treated his daughter but if they witnessed more than attraction. When the younger man had impressed him enough for Roper to swap him out for Corky after eight months in his employment just over four years ago, part of it had to do with the timing. Thomas had been in the right place, at the right time, with the correct level of charm, menace and aspiration. And sexual orientation. Just enough to become his second, but his lack of any real outside interests or vices, of dependants, had been a foil. No man could truly be controlled if there was nothing he had to lose and though he had no requirement to pull on a leash, Thomas had never given him reason to, the lack of there ever having been one bothered Roper. His evergreen daughter would never have come to him as being of interest, if she had he might have engineered it himself, it was a question of how deeply he wished to bring her. There was no possibility of Evie knowing what their business was, Dicky knew people and she would never sleep at night. Danny, Danny he hoped to one day share all this with but no, not Evelyn. As useful as a handsome, single man could be many of their clients had their own wives (and mistresses, and would sleep with any entertainment provided) so a girlfriend, one related to the head of Jaguar Holdings, would provide assurances and dispel any maverick concerns. 

“I’m sponsoring a benefit for Unicef, in Switzerland,” Roper spoke as if the past twenty minutes hadn’t been spent in silence and actually, what he was doing was collecting and moving donations to finance Telesca. The sheer level of money required exceeded what even he could raise with investors alone, and the charity fronted money laundering organisation gave him the opportunity to put together what would be his biggest play to date, even after their cut. Some would even go to helping the needy, well it had to, you couldn’t very well take it all; too much red tape and likelihood of being caught that way. “I’d like you to attend, with Thomas. He’s already going to be there, of course.”

If someone had asked her in advance where she thought her father’s talking was leading Evie wouldn’t have guessed it was being invited to a charity gala with Thomas. Who she was doubting knew her father’s plan, and whom she could not text to ask what to do, not that she had time, because he had warned her it wasn’t safe to share anything beyond casual messages. That had made her skin crawl, that every message in all her years here could have been monitored. Evie said the only thing she could, “I’d love to.”

Thomas was in his office within his home, the one Evie had been brought to in what felt both like so long ago and yesterday simultaneously. The rope Thomas had fashioned around her neck not because he didn’t posses any actual leads, he did in leather - and rather considerately imitation calfskin for anyone who preferred it - but for the tug of the tightening noose to frighten her as he made her straddle him while he read was on his mind, an erotic reminder as well as one he wished he could forget due to the circumstances. There was not a room within his home that was not filled with unpleasant encounters, with the exception of his own secret study. This one not even the cleaner knew existed, his inspiration drawn directly from Roper. What looked like a cupboard door in this room led down a two-flight staircase into a room that held the same footprint as entire floor in his two-née-three level house. He did not test an alarm every day at eleven the way Dicky noisily did, as much to be a reminder to all his employees from the top down of who was in charge as anything else, Thomas’ system was more high tech and discreet. He’d had no one to scare within these walls to require it. Before Evie. Swallowing the remaining Bowmore 25 in the glass to clear his mind, Thomas looked down at the vibrating phone on the desk. Roper.

”Thomas, I want Evie to attend Unicef with you. There will be a selection of wives and and there _is_ still a lingering distaste of Corky’s deviancy that your bachelorhood hasn’t dissolved.”

“To a business event? I really don’t think that’s the best idea, Dicky.”

”Nonsense, it’s a gala which will be filled with nothing more dangerous than a canapé. You have a girlfriend now, it will be useful for Evie to attend these kind of functions,” Thomas did not like what was being suggested. No, he was not suggesting, Roper was stating in that way that he did where he had no reason to be foreful because his word was law that going forward, where suitable, Thomas would be accompanied by Evie. 

No sooner had one call ended that Thomas pressed the button to ring Spain himself this time. He was irate at being caught on the back foot, something Evie could have ensured not occur and he intended to chastise the girl but she spoke before he could say more than her name.

”Did he call you? Has he told you? I’m sorry, I wanted to let you know but we’ve only just got back from the airport and you said not to text anything important and I was going to call you first but he had the phone to his ear as soon as he walked away,” Evie had fallen into her nervous babble routine.

”Stop,” Thomas sounded firm but no longer angry, he could hear genuine worry across the phone lines despite their distance. “Yes, he just called me and you did the right thing not texting, little girl.”

”Daddy, I’m sorry, he asked if I wanted to go and I didn’t know how to say no.”

”Evie,” Thomas spoke calmly, his voice as smooth as the scotch he had drank, “you did nothing wrong and your daddy will be proud to escort you at the end of the week. To see you dressed up and to know at the end of the evening, if I can bear to wait that long, that I’ll be the one to remove it from you. To pull each delicious item from your body until you are naked before me and wanting. Or what might happen if I choose not to wait.”

That voice of his, it did things to her and this time it was no different. Not only was she turned on but the uncertainty and panic that had been present moments earlier melted away. “Will I see you before then?”

”I’m afraid not,” initially he had intended to travel to Switzerland with Roper but whilst on the phone as well as the bombshell of a companion there had been some business chatter and he was now required to undertake another trip in advance of the fake charity event.

”Oh,” it was small and Evie wanted to be someone who didn’t say ‘oh’ about such a thing but it was Monday now and Friday when they were leaving and already four days since Thomas had kissed her goodbye. She gave herself points for not saying ‘but you were meant to return on Wednesday’, that was something at least.

”Are you in your room?” he asked.

”Yes, I was just closing the door when you rang.”

”Good, then we won’t be interrupted. I believe I owe my little girl an orgasm for each additional day I’m going to be away from you, wouldn’t you agree?” his tone was casual but her ears had become accustomed to the undercurrent of lust just beneath the surface.

Evie nodded then realised she had to actually reply.

“You’re not in the cottage Evie, so you’ll have to keep those screams of yours quiet or everyone will know that you’re a dirty little slut who touches herself. Before we start, take off all your clothes,” Thomas waited as the phone was placed down for Evie to do as he instructed, his hand absently rubbing the front of his trousers with the memory of how she looked. Once she was back on the line he continued, “trace your hands across your thighs for me, stroke the inside of them and remember how it feels when it’s my mouth inching towards your aching pussy, how you arch and whimper when I brush along your sensitive clit and how slick you’ve already become for me.”

Evie closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her as her short fingers, no real substitute for Thomas’ mouth or his hands if he had been here, moved as he spoke to her.


	22. Let me Show You How Much I Missed You

The light kiss which Thomas placed upon Evie's cheek when she reached the runway, having descended the plane stairs with one hand shielding the sun from her eyes behind Dicky was perfunctory, and one borne of the conversation he had had with his employer earlier in the week of the new role expected of him and Evie. Having had little in the way of his personal life that connected to his work during these years this new addition to his _duties_ left Pine sour and filled with the need to keep genuine, intimate acts separate from Roper as much as was feasible. A look of confusion crossed Evie's eyes at his urbane behaviour, Roper still had his back to her, but when Thomas placed his left hand on the small of her back to guide the girl toward one of the vehicles, he let his thumb stroke against her in a firm but reassuring caress and her stiff posture relaxed somewhat, comforted by an action she was used to from him.

The F-Pace SVR was spacious and comfortably sat the three of them in the back, Tabby was beside the driver and the other, identical, SVR carried Frisky, two additional security men and the luggage. Evie really could have done without another car journey with her father so soon after the previous one but at least this time Thomas was between them and as they discussed general details relating to the next evening's event, Evie let her eyes blur as she stared out of the window at the pretty green scenery and wishing she could smell the crisp air outside. Mid-August it might be but the weather remained cool and would only ever feel hot if you were directly in the sun and she would rather breathe that air instead of the blandness of the aircon. After a while their voices became background noise to her and she hadn't realised that she had drifted off until Thomas touched her awake.

"You're being dropped off at the hotel, we have a number of details to iron out ahead of the fundraiser, boring business," Richard addressed his daughter. The late afternoon light was bright enough that by inclining her head she could see the expansive, almost Disney like princess castle building that was the Badrutts Palace Hotel where Richard Roper chose to stay when in St. Moritz and declared everywhere else a ‘third world hostel’. Disappointment that Thomas would not be coming with her was, she had to admit, surpassed by relief that she would have some real space away from her father after the private plane and car journey. She climbed out of the car and in the other SVR one of the bodyguards also exited, taking the bags out while a bellboy with a cart approached him. Once he had finished both cars pulled away and Evie made her way into the foyer, which looked the same since her last visit with its black and white chequered floor that was partially hidden by the chic mishmash of expensive oriental rugs and jewel toned, velvet furniture with carved wooden ceilings above. 

Anthony Lake, the Director of Unicef didn't have quite the levels of charm that Roper did in Thomas' opinion, especially if you stared deeply at those shallow pool like blue eyes of his behind the clear eyeglasses, to Thomas they resembled the blankness of a shark but with his liver spotted skin and balding head he certainly resembled someone's grandfather. If that someone's grandfather was running a charity worth 500 million, with five billion annually passing through their coffers from private and government donations as a front for a criminal funding organisation and taking 10 percent of the money for themselves, not exactly your regular pensioner. Unicef provided the prestige and the ability to draw the very wealthy who were glad to donate for the huge tax relief and in return, a _businessman_  such as Roper would front the initial cost of hosting the event. Having recently acquired the Lonsdaleite, an 185 million dollar castle in St. Moritz, it was to be one of their main fundraising venues for Unicef going forward and where the gala would be held, which is where Thomas and Richard had driven to after the pit-stop at the hotel. The opulence of such a property certainly impressed those who felt a mixture of expectation and luck to be invited. Roper had worked with Unicef more than once over last decade, initially with Ann Veneman the previous director whom he had met at first due to her post as Secretary of Agriculture of the United States before she was brought into Unicef. Thomas had never met her himself, it was before his time, but Lake was familiar to him and he knew his role right then was more observational whilst Roper finalised with Anthony how the charity would be paying Iron Last Limited for their work in a three pronged operation linking drones, the purchase of new land that was already owned by a dummy corporation and the agriculture side which Iron Last specialised in for the refugee camps near the Syrian border. Ultimately, for the people existing in tents and sleeping in the dirt far from their homes and surviving in awful conditions they would do a lot of good but everything would cost more; money would be buried beneath unnecessary expenses and sadly there would be reports of problems with the soil that initial analysis had not discovered and yet more money would be required. Nevertheless, for those on ground zero, even if they knew how much illegal activity and thieving would occur, their lives would be forever changed for the better. Other lives, other disasters and war torn and desperate people would suffer down the line but for the people of Kasimli, the Unicef and Iron Last partnership was a godsend. Albeit a dishonest and scheming god who only did benevolent acts out of self interest rather than morality. 

It was nine that night before Thomas entered the suite booked in his name for himself and Evie. Roper and Lake had spent far longer together than was necessary and for someone such as himself who held little patience at being brought along to bolster Roper, time had inched forward at a crawl. She hadn’t heard him, he could see the white wires from Evie’s headphones snaking upwards, attached to her phone on the other end which she was playing with whilst lying on her front in bed clad in a vest and underwear. Her her back was facing away from the open archway that separated the large living room area from the spacious bedroom. Light on his feet, in case the volume wasn’t set especially loud, Thomas approached Evie, bending at the waist to place a bite on the curve of her butt cheek. Scrabbling with a startled scream, Evie yanked the earbuds from her ears and tried to strike her assailant, until she realised it was Thomas, who caught her wrists easily anyway.

”Fuck, I thought I was being attacked!” Evie crossly said, despite rarely swearing she did so then.

Paying no attention to her being annoyed Thomas gave his most salacious smile, the one that convinced her he had to be related to Lucifer, and said, “you looked too delicious to ignore.”

”So you’re not sorry for scaring me,” Evie regretted her choice in words as soon as they came out as a look passed between herself and Thomas, one that laid bare how they had come to be and how they both skirted it because if they spoke about it her nightmares would return and she wouldn’t be able to bare to let him touch her. There was no conversation that could be had that would erase what he had done to her; they weren’t ignoring it by not talking, they were simply trying to protect the relationship. 

“I’m going to shower, have you eaten?” Thomas was friendly but guarded as he spoke, removing his suit jacket and beginning to unbutton his shirt with forefinger and thumb.

Shaking her head in the negative, a lump of something at the back of her throat, Evie wanted to ask him to not withdraw but she didn’t know how without drawing further attention to what had created the need in the first place. “Are we going out?”

“I want you all to myself tonight, before I’m forced to share you with two hundred guests tomorrow.”

”Room service or one of the restaurants downstairs?”

”Oh I think room service so I can eat desert from your cunt,” Thomas had taken Evie’s hand and pulled her upward to face him, kissing the top of her head as she pressed her clothed chest against his bare one, his thumbs tracing the delicate skin behind her ears before heading to the bathroom.

The water washed away the tension he felt in his shoulders, momentarily cleansing away the crime, violence and murder. For the moment. A different side of himself for each occasion, although Evie already had more than a brief idea of what the other part of him was to experience first hand.

Meeting a damp haired and dressed in more casual attire Thomas halfway when she heard the door open, a cloud of steam leaving with him, Evie breathed in the mixture of his personal scent and what he had used to lather up as she looked up at him, her lips parting and her eyes closing as his did, their mouths meeting a moment later.

He’d been mistaken when he thought he could wash everything away and put on another face, the wide-eyed innocence she still had, that he suspected she always would, stirred the darkness in him.

“Do you trust me?” Thomas pulled back so he could look at Evie who nodded. From the back pocket of his jeans he pulled out a spring knife, essentially the same as a flick knife but a mechanism unsheathed the blade rather than a wrist action. It amused him to carry a weapon that was legal, considering what he usually did with it was most certainly not. “And now, do you trust me to use this to play with you?”

Gulping when Thomas pressed along the side with his thumb and the metal part of the knife sprang out, Evie looked back and forth between the sharp edge and him, searching his eyes, and after an extended pause nodded again, “yes daddy.”

That was all Thomas needed to hear, his pupils dilating and his cock hardening as he pushed Evie against the nearest wall, clasping a handful of the fabric of her vest and cutting into it. Not in one straight line but as various tears, never so much as letting even the tip of the blade brush against her creamy flesh. Yet. This time. When he had cut enough that the garment fell from her it did so in ribbons and with a swift flick the gore of her bra was sliced and her breasts sank slightly, no longer being held up by science, engineering and grey lace.

”Take that off,” he gestured his head toward her chest with a sneer and Evie obeyed. She always obeyed. “That leaves you with just your knickers left, doesn’t it?” Not waiting for a reply Thomas turned the knife on its side and using the flat of it delicately held it against Evie’s mound. The girl jerked and Thomas chastised her, “you wouldn’t want to end up accidentally cut somewhere so sensitive would you, little girl. You’d better stay perfectly still if you want to remain safe.”

Without needing to be told again, Evie felt herself freeze as her sinful lover exerted a slight force along where her slit was, angling the blade so the widest part near the handle was now putting pressure on her clit, ever so but the fact that he was doing this and that she was at his mercy was having an effect on her and she was struggling not to cant her hips, “daddy please, I can’t. I need to move, I need to...”

”You need to stay still, Evelyn,” Thomas sternly commanded and all it made Evie want to do was rock more as she bit her bottom lip to stop herself.

”Aren’t you full of surprises, little whore. Wanting to make yourself come against my knife, even if it cut you you don’t care so long as you get to come,” and Thomas laughed darkly when all Evie could do was reply with a moan. Dropping the weapon, though not before he cut the last remaining item of cloth from her body, Thomas plunged two fingers inside of her channel, finding her soaking and scissoring them as she came. With his other hand he undid his jeans. 

“Suck,” he brought his messy hand to Evie’s lips and she closed her mouth around his fingers, tasting herself. With his own groan Thomas removed his hand so he could take himself out and with no preamble pushed himself inside of Evie, who had to go on tip-toes as she was so much shorter than him. “I’m going to fuck you now until I empty myself inside of you,” Thomas took one of her thighs from underneath in his hand and held her open to him, him thrusts  hard and he could hear the thump of their bodies against the wall each time he slammed inside Evie. All he could think of was how wet she had gotten from him using the blade, how it felt to stab at her clothes while her innocent eyes stared in fear and lust, how it _would_ feel to prick at her skin another time. That was the final push he needed, his cock twitching as he came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was utterly delighted that Ann Veneman used to be the Secretary of Agriculture and it gave a "real" link to Roper. But also oh dear lord I've realised I know people a decent amount, and I know smut very well but I do not know how big criminal activity or how dealing with hundreds of millions to billions works, so please bear with me *sob*  
> 
> 
> Also feel free to tell me if my -not great but makes me happy to create- manips in the middle of the story is off putting and you’d rather I stuck to top/bottom only.


End file.
